Masks
by jane0904
Summary: Next in the Mal/Freya 'verse.  Freya and the girls get involved in a cruise, Mal takes on a job, and an old frenemy reappears in something of a state.  Read, enjoy, review! LAST CHAPTER now up, but there'll be more - and thanks to all my reviewers!
1. Chapter 1

The _Empress of Sihnon_ slipped through the emptiness of space like a hot knife through butter.

Of course, as River pointed out on more than one occasion, space isn't really all that empty, what with micro-meteorites, dust and other detritus, and a hot knife melts butter, it doesn't cut it. In fact, due to the relative densities of blade and comestible, there was a case to be made for … At this point the Reader usually shut up, as the look on the Captain's face promised a close, personal encounter with the airlock if she persisted.

So, perhaps it would be more accurate to say that the _Empress of Sihnon_ slipped through the not-quite-emptiness of space like a luxury liner with an advanced uranium accelerator core, her stateliness belying her speed.

Deck after deck of staterooms, restaurants, the highest quality boutiques, 3D Cortex halls, high grav gymnasiums and low grav swimming pools … the ship was the best Blue Sun had to offer, and the price of a first class ticket would have bankrupted some of the smaller border moons.

A voice made itself known. "Looks like a whorehouse I went to on Chandrey. 'Cept I think the whorehouse was prettier."

"I don't care. Put the uniform on."

"Aw, Mal …"

* * *

_**Some time earlier …**_

They'd been gone three days from Phoros, heading for Lazarus so that Inara, Sam and the girls could see the new arrival, and for the entire three days – or so it seemed – that same new arrival hadn't stopped yelling his head off.

"Simon, do something," Mal ordered, standing in the middle of the galley.

"Like what?" The young doctor looked harassed, and very … no, make that _extraordinarily_ tired. He had a mug of coffee in his hand, but seemed to be ignoring it.

"He's your son."

"And I've checked him over a dozen times. There's nothing physically wrong with him."

"A'course there ain't," Kaylee said, nursing David and jiggling him as she swung from side to side.

Mal looked away, feeling faintly sea-sick. "Then how come he ain't stopping?"

"Because all babies are different," Simon explained for what felt like the nine-hundredth time. "He'll probably quieten down. As soon as he gets used to being on a ship."

"Is that the problem?" Mal wanted to know. "Because if it is, there ain't a lot I can do about it."

"Nobody's asking you to." Simon knew he sounded short-tempered, but he couldn't help it. "Just remember that Ethan wasn't always quiet."

"He slept through the night pretty much from the start."

"Jesse didn't."

Mal's eyes narrowed slightly. "Doc –"

"I'll take him into the engine room with me," Kaylee interrupted, not wanting to see a fight, and feeling remarkable premonitious that there might be one. "Maybe it'll calm him a bit."

"See that you do," Mal said firmly, adding quickly, "Only … see that he don't fall into anything, _dong mah_? Seeing as he's … you know …"

"You're really a big softie, ain't you?" Kaylee said, stepping close to her captain, the sound of her son showing his lungs were really well developed all the louder for it.

"No, I ain't. I'm a mean old man, and all I'm thinking about is the mess, and who's gonna clear it up."

"Right." She reached up and planted a kiss on his cheek. "Captain Meany."

Mal couldn't help the slight smile on his face as she walked away, singing a lullaby under her breath, the sound of David Tam muting a little. He did, however, manage to wipe it off before turning to the young man next to him. "Doc, go to bed."

"What?" Simon stared at him out of bloodshot eyes.

"Go. To. Bed." He enunciated clearly, considering punctuating it with a well-aimed finger to the chest, but deciding it would probably have the recipient on his back on the deck. "Afore I get River to come out here and dope you."

"I'm fine," Simon insisted, only then noticing the cup in his hand. He took a mouthful of cold coffee, his tastebuds so tired that he swallowed it without his brain intervening. "Absolutely shiny."

Mal gently extricated the mug, placing it on the table. "You need to get some sleep. Not long, just for an hour or two."

"I can't." Simon could be very stubborn when he wanted. "I have things to do, examinations to make. The crew's physicals are due, and Ben was complaining of feeling stuffy at breakfast, so he might have a cold, and what with Zoe's wrenched shoulder –"

"If'n I didn't know what she was doing when she wrenched it, I might be more concerned. But playing catch as catch can with Hank and the kids … well, I figure maybe she brought it on herself."

"You're going to tell her that, are you?" Simon's asperity was back full force.

"Already did."

"And you're still walking and talking. She must be feeling worse than I thought." He drew himself up. "All the more reason to check her over, make sure there's nothing I missed."

A thread of unease ran down Mal's spine. "Do you think you did?"

"No," Simon admitted. "But I like to be thorough."

"No, doc. What you like to be is a pain in the backside, but what you're _good_ at is being thorough."

"If you want to argue over semantics –"

"I ain't arguing about anything. Strange to tell, I'm captain. Have been for a while now. And when this here captain tells his medic to take to his bed, he expects to be obeyed."

"Mal, I –"

Mal sighed, and put his arm around the younger man's shoulders. "Simon, you're almost dead on your feet. And I for one don't want you rummaging around anyone's inside in the state you're in."

"Rumma … What are you talking about?"

"Hopefully nothing, but you never know. What if your wife does something she shouldn't with the engine, and we have to land quick, only the natives don't exactly take kindly to us being there, and somebody gets shot?"

Simon couldn't hold it in. He laughed, long and loud. "You mean like you?" he managed to say, trying to get his dignity back.

Mal grinned. "That's better. You've been wound tighter'n a watch-spring these last few days. You needed to let it out."

"So that was all psychology?" Simon shook his head. "I'm surprised."

"Don't be. And I don't care what you call it, long as it worked."

A last chuckle eased out of the young doctor's throat, and he felt … calmer. "And that's your professional opinion, is it? That I need some sleep."

"Ain't even gonna bother asking when the last time you got more'n a coupla decent hours was, doc. 'Cause yes, you do."

Simon opened his mouth, then closed it again. Then … "Mal, if you ever tell this to a mortal soul I will make your next visit to my table less than comfortable, but you're right. I need some sleep."

"Good. And I'm sure we're gonna survive until you wake up."

Simon took a deep breath and nodded. "But if anything happens, if you need me –"

"We'll call."

"Okay." He smiled. "And it isn't fair to threaten me with River."

"Fair, well, maybe not. But she was the one told me to make you, so you take it out on your sis next time, not me."

"Oh, I will." Simon waved vaguely and headed off in the direction of his and Kaylee's quarters, an appointment with his mattress and a pair of ear plugs uppermost in his mind.

Mal grinned, the years dropping from his face at the job well done, and went to find his wife.

* * *

Kaylee hummed something and nothing, more or less able to ignore David in his sling around her chest as she tinkered, her mind only half on her work and half on the family she'd left behind.

It had been so good to see them, and for so long, too. They'd never managed to spend that long a time on Phoros before, and she knew it was only because of the good fortune they'd had on Jericho that they'd been able to do it now. Having that little cushion of cashey-money to fall back on made life a bit more comfortable, even if there wasn't enough for them to retire.

"That what you'd like to do, Winnie?" her father had asked as she packed up the last of her things from the house. After Simon had pronounced her fit enough to climb the stairs, she moved them both into her old room, the big crib sitting in the corner by the fire, warmed and waiting.

For more than three weeks they'd lived in splendour, knowing her brothers were around her, her parents just across the way, and if she found herself wanting to see Bethie and Hope in the middle of the night, well … that first time Mal had complained vociferously about them leaving the cargo bay door open to the elements, stating he'd woken up with frostbite and a frozen hip, although what he was really worried about was the fact that they'd walked all the way to the Fryes on their own. After that he'd insisted they stay in the house, just in case. But now she was moving back to the ship, lock stock and barrel, and it felt … odd.

"No, I ain't saying that. It's just … it's like leaving home all over again."

He smiled, dropping his head so she didn't think he was laughing at her. "Seems to me the last time you did that you were all manner of in a rush. Just so's your captain wouldn't leave you behind."

"Yeah, well, I weren't sure then. I am now. And I ain't the little girl he took on, neither. I'm a grown woman, with a husband and three kids. And that's a whole new ball game."

"You're still Winnie to me."

"I know, Pa. And that helps, it really does." She smiled, but it wasn't her usual full-blown splendour.

"You know, you could stay. Work with me. Between us we'd make the name of Frye famous."

"Oh, you don't need me for that. And I ain't staying. My home's on Serenity now." She sat down rather suddenly on the bed. "It's just … it's hard, you know?"

He lowered himself next to her. "Having your Ma at your beck and call. Not having to lift a finger. Let alone four brothers around to handle the baby-sitting duties …"

She punched him lightly on the arm. "I ain't been as bad as all that!"

"Kaylee, I understand. I do. You left home to see the 'verse, and from what I gather you've seen a pretty fair chunk of it, and had your ups and downs with it too. This last month … it was just a reminder, is all. Of what you came from, and maybe what's in your future. But that's a long time off, for when you and that wandering husband of yours decide to put down something like roots. It don't have to be here, although your Ma would be pleased as punch if it was. But someplace where your kids can have kids."

Kaylee had to laugh. "That's an awful long way off."

"You think that captain of yours is going to let you leave any time soon? Because I don't. You're the only one knows how anything works on that boat." He tugged her to his side, somewhat roughly so she couldn't see the emotion in his eyes. "You just remember that, Kaywhinnet Lee Tam. Nobody else knows her like you do."

Just the memory brought a grin to her face, and she began working in earnest, adjusting the transducers so their output stayed more regular, twisting her wrench in time to David Gabriel's cries.

* * *

"How can you sleep?" Mal asked, more than a little disgruntled.

"Practice." Freya didn't open her eyes, just lay on their bunk, her hands lightly clasped on her belly, her legs crossed at the ankles. "It comes from meditating. You should try it some time."

He hooked his arm through the ladder he'd just climbed down. "I would, if I didn't have to end up smelling like a brothel keeper."

She flashed him a glare, which he returned with a grin, then went back into her semblance of repose once more. "Besides, I'm not sleeping. I'm still mentally working off that farewell meal Ellie cooked." She groaned slightly. "I'm surprised the table stayed in one piece."

"Me too. But then again, this is her little Kaylee. Did you … um …" Mal mimed something, curving the fingers on his left hand into a circle and pushing the first two fingers of his right hand into it.

Freya looked at him, slightly askance. "You do realise that particular gesture is obscene on fifteen worlds, don't you?"

"I meant, did you put money in the pot?"

"I know what you meant. And yes, I did. Don't worry. They're not going to go short."

"Do you think they know?" Mal asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed and putting his hand on her thigh.

"Ellie does, that's for sure. Eddie … I don't think so. He'd make you take it back."

"I conjure you're right." He shook his head, a rueful smile on his face. "And I know for a fact Eddie isn't going to touch that money we left behind, either." He could see, playing in full and glorious colour in his mind's eye, Eddie placing the bags into his specially designed safe in the cellar room.

She shifted slightly, as if uncomfortable. "Mal …"

"What?" He rubbed her thigh.

"I … uh … gave Bobby some cash as well."

"You too?"

Her eyes flew open. "You?"

"Mmn." He chuckled. "Him and Tyree seem to be getting on well, and I maybe see them setting up home together, 'cept the prospect of letting yourself go knowing your brothers are next door, and your parents are over the way …"

"Kaylee's right. You _are_ a big softie."

His eyes narrowed a fraction, but it was resigned humour in his tone when he asked, "Were you peeking?"

"Maybe my walls were a bit thin." She grinned, her eyes closing again as he rubbed his hand gently up and down her thigh. "I'm glad you made Simon go to bed, though. Maybe he'll be better tempered when he wakes up."

"Hey, I thought that was me."

"You too."

He leaned down and brushed his lips tenderly across her. "And don't you forget it."

"So have you looked at those files Inara sent you?"

"Files?" He attempted nonchalance.

"Files. On the cruises the girls want to go on."

"Nope. Doesn't ring a bell."

She lifted herself onto her elbows. "Mal, they've done a lot of work. Dates, times, itineraries … and I have to say the _Empress of Sihnon_ looks rather lovely."

"Looks like a floating bordello."

Glaring at him, she said accusingly, "You _did_ read them!"

A flash of guilt crossed his features, then he said, as if tossing it away, "Well, maybe I did glance at 'em."

"And?"

"And … what?"

"Mal …"

"You know, I been thinking maybe this isn't such a good idea. This cruising lark. There's too much can go wrong, and … well, maybehaps you should be talking them out of it."

This caused Freya to sit up fully. "_Me_ talking them out of it?"

"Seeing as you're my wife."

She dropped back onto the pillow, shaking her head vehemently. "Oh, no. If you think you're going to disappoint those girls, you're going to have to do your own dirty work."

"Even if it's for their own good?"

"Even then."

"Even if I …" His hand moved up her thigh.

"Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"That."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not in the mood."

"Liar."

She took hold of his hand, removing it from her leg and placing it back on his own. "Not in the mood," she repeated.

"You're always in the mood."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Not today."

Mal gazed steadily at her. "And if I say I'll look over those files? Properly? Give it my full and honest attention?"

"You already said yes," she pointed out.

"I was poorly."

Freya's mind flashed involuntarily to the vision of Simon up to his wrists in Mal's chest, and she couldn't help the slight shudder that ran through her. "That's no excuse," she said, covering.

He knew though, understood that it still affected her. Hell, it still affected him, seeing it was the closest he'd come to dying since the war. "I'll take a look," he promised.

"Now?"

"No, not now. Got me some better things to be doing right now." He put his hand back on her thigh, his fingertips massaging lightly as he leaned down to kiss her.

"_Mal, you wanna get up here?"_

Mal sighed heavily, just an inch from his wife's face. "Ain't there some way I can do without that man?" he asked quietly.

"Zoe might have something to say about that," Freya said, chuckling.

"I guess." He got to his feet and crossed to the com. "Kinda busy, Hank."

"_Oh, I don't think you'll be disappointed."_

"I am already."

"_Don't be like that."_ The pilot sounded almost hurt.

"Fine. I'll be right up." Mal clicked off, then looked back at Freya. "Don't move."

She wriggled her hips at him, and he groaned as he ascended the ladder.

Up in the corridor, he looked across to the kitchen, where Zoe was sitting with Ben at the table, working on some of the maths problems Freya had set last time the children had lessons. The strapping holding Zoe's right arm to her side was apparent, and both of them appeared to have ear plugs in, since the youngest Frye was still exercising his right to free speech.

Wondering how his first mate and her son could possibly do homework like that, Mal ascended the steps to the bridge two at a time. "Well?" he demanded. "What is it?"

"Distress call." Hank was staring at the console. "It's faint, and I thought I'd lost it a couple of times, but … definitely a ship in distress."

"Any idea where?"

"Pretty much on our current heading, from what I can make out."

"Are we in vid range?"

"Almost."

Something in Hank's demeanour was setting off alarm bells in Mal's gut. "What? What is it you're not telling me?"

Hank looked up, trying for innocence, but coming across more like a schoolboy caught in an orchard. "Um, does that signature look familiar?"

Mal leaned over Hank's shoulder, staring at the readout. A smile slowly made its way onto his face. "I believe it does."

"You want me to call?"

"Oh, only if it's convenient."


	2. Chapter 2

"_Cherokee_, this is Serenity. How can we be of assistance?"

The screen sprang to life and a man's face appeared, the worry lines disappearing as they watched. "Mal?"

"The very same."

"Damn, but I'm glad it's you!" Noah Thacker half turned his head, yelling over his shoulder, "Jez, get your ass up here!"

Mal grinned. "As subtle as ever."

"Well, you know what it's like," Noah said, leaning forward and lowering his voice. "Jez's been acting like a bear with a sore head ever since we lost power, and she's … being Jez."

"Meaning she won't ask for help."

"'Xactly. Wouldn't even let me beam a distress call until two days ago, when Ida threatened to up and quit if she didn't."

"No, she didn't," came another voice, a woman this time.

"She did too," Noah said to the person off screen. "Then who would have cooked?"

"I'm not that bad."

"I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer." Noah rolled away from the com, his wheelchair making a slight squealing noise on the deck.

A woman came into view, tucking her shoulder-length black hair behind her ears, her high cheekbones and long, straight nose giving her something of a look of disdain.

"Mal."

"Jez."

They stared at each other, wondering who was going to break first.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," Freya muttered, stepping onto the bridge and pushing her husband out of the way. "Jez, it's good to see you."

"You too." The woman on the screen suddenly grinned, and it was like she was a whole different person. "It's been a long time."

"Nearly a year."

"I thought it was longer." 'Jez' Thacker, born Jezebel Youngblood, pulled out the stool kept permanently under the console and sat down. "It's always too long."

"Always." Freya smiled. "How are things?"

"Oh, you know. Same old same old."

"That good, huh?"

"Well, it would be, if Marcel could keep from breaking my engine every five minutes."

"Oh, I'm going to tell him you said that," Noah commented from the background.

"Go ahead," she threw over her shoulder. "I've said it to his face. And worse."

Freya couldn't help grinning. "I take it you need some assistance?"

"Just a tad. You still got that little wonder with you?"

"If you mean Kaylee, she's still on board."

"I'd've thought Mal would've scared her off by now."

"Hey!" the man in question complained behind his wife.

"No, not yet. In fact, we've had another little addition to the family."

Jez grinned. "Yours?"

Mal moved in closer. "No. Not this time. Kaylee, in fact. Just a month since."

"So her and Simon are pretty much worn down to nothing?"

"Pretty much," Freya agreed.

"Crying, puking, throwing things …" Mal added. "The baby's almost as bad." He winced as Freya elbowed him in the belly.

Jez laughed, her whole face lighting up. "I'm sure that ain't the case. But the truth is Marcel's having the devil's own job fixing whatever it is that's blown this time, and he says we don't have the parts. Something to do with a power router. We've been running on batteries since it went, and our auxiliary life support's playing up too. You think maybe Serenity might be willing to see if she's got something that'll do us?"

Mal smiled back. "Considering that mechanic of mine was hoarding parts like they were going out of fashion when we were on Jericho, I think maybehaps we do."

"Jericho?" Jez grimaced. "Pretty enough, but the folks there …"

"Some of 'em are okay."

"I'll take your word for that." She looked expectantly. "So you'll help?"

"A'course. Can't leave a fellow Browncoat floundering around with their ass hanging out of their pants, can I?"

"Malcolm Reynolds, I've never floundered in my life. And my ass is not hanging out of my pants, or anywhere else."

Noah rolled up behind her, and from the yelp she gave, he'd stroked that particular portion of her anatomy. "Which is a pity for me," he added.

Snorting back on a laugh, Mal glanced at Hank. "How long 'til we get there?"

His pilot scanned the details on the screens. "Five hours?"

Noah couldn't have looked more pleased. "That's great. I'll tell Ida to do us a meal. I remember the things I've had to eat on board your boat before." He mimed having indigestion.

"We're a lot better now," Freya put in. "Simon's getting really good."

"Really? I thought the only decent cook was Kaylee."

"Just because Hank can burn water and Frey ain't that much better …" Mal rubbed his stomach. "Do you have to keep doing that?"

"Yes," his wife said.

"I keep tellin' folk I'm a battered husband, but nobody ever believes me," he grumbled.

"Prob'ly 'cause of that look you have on your face when you're with your better half," Jez suggested.

"Better half?"

"Well, she sure ain't the worst."

"I'll have you know –"

"You'd better come to us to eat," Freya said quickly before an argument developed. "If you're running on reserves, you won't have enough power for Ida to do anything justice. Besides, we only left Kaylee's family a couple of days ago, and they made sure our larder was full."

Noah's jaw dropped slightly. "Real food?"

"Real food," Freya confirmed, grinning.

"Do you hear that?" he said to his wife. "Real food. I don't think we've had that for … years."

Jez slapped him lightly on the arm, then looked back into the screen. "That isn't right… you're the ones coming to help us."

"So?" Freya asked.

"We should be the ones going to the trouble."

"Next time. And I'm sure Mal will let Ida cook over here if she wants."

"With real food?" Noah laughed. "She'll have your hand off in her haste."

"I'll get Jayne to set up a table in the bay," Mal put in. "Seeing as we're not rigged for chairs."

Noah patted his wheels affectionately. "That'll be shiny, Mal."

Serenity's captain paused, then asked, his tone just a little off, "You … ain't carrying anything explosive, are you?"

"Nope. Not carrying anything at all. Why?"

He didn't answer, his mind involuntarily going back to Road Runner, and the memories of picking up the pieces of his friends after … Freya leaned back against him, her warmth and comfort in his mind, dispelling the images with ones much more pleasant.

He put his hand on her shoulder and smiled. "Nothing. Never mind. See you in a few."

"Will do," Noah said. "And Mal … thanks."

"Hey, it's what old pals are for."

* * *

"There she is." Hank adjusted their trajectory so they could come up behind the other ship, allowing a hard lock-on with her airlock at the rear.

Mal shook his head. "You know, every time I see that thing, I wonder how it ever gets off the ground."

"Prayer," Hank said succinctly.

_Cherokee_ was a converted Alliance transport scow, Pelican-class, bought for almost nothing at an auction after the war by a man who had more money than sense. He'd changed her specs out of all imagining, giving her an overhaul that would have made any other captain green with envy. He'd then gone very publicly bankrupt, and she was sold for running-away money to Jez Thacker, using the last of her inheritance.

Dwarfing the Firefly by about two to one, she had no real space for passengers but could haul bigger loads in the bay on her back. Noah always joked that class should have been called Camel, the way she just sucked up cargo like water. She also had two railguns mounted front and rear, but they were more for show than anything. No-one had been able to find new ammo for them for half a dozen years, so what they had was very precious.

And nobody could doubt the name, either, not with that painting.

Jez claimed she could trace her ancestry back to the Cherokee Indians from Earth-that-was, and nobody disagreed. Mainly because when she claimed it, she tended to be drunk, and have a gun in her hand, waving it around erratically. It was the reason her ship had a full blooded Native American in a magnificent feather headdress adorning her prow.

"Just get us snuggled up all nice and tight," Mal ordered. "And less of the philosophy." He walked off the bridge, but there was a smile on his face.

It stayed until he reached the cargo bay, at which point it expanded into a grin. He leaned over the railing and gazed down. "I take it no-one's in a hurry to meet their friends, then."

His entire crew – Hank being the only one missing – lifted their heads to look at him, and even David Gabriel Tam, in his sling across Simon's chest, was quiet, as if he too felt the anticipation in the air.

Zoe chuckled. "I told 'em to wait in the kitchen, but then again, I ain't the captain."

"It wouldn't make any difference," Mal said, descending the stairs. "It ain't like they listen to me anyway."

"It's like you said," Kaylee put in. "They're our friends." She glanced down at the toolbox at her feet. "'Sides, the sooner we get on board, the sooner I can fix her and the longer we get to jaw."

"Kaylee, this ain't a proper visit. Just a bystop to help ease their distress."

"You really think that's likely?" Simon asked, looking down at the children, all waiting in a group. "You try and drag Bethie away from Laura too soon and you'll have a fight on your hands."

Bethie nodded firmly, her eyes fixed on the cargo bay doors.

"Reckon maybe you're right, there," Mal allowed, walking across the floor to stand next to Freya. "So maybe we'll hang around a few hours."

Kaylee grinned widely and blew him a kiss. "I love my captain," she said.

"Better be careful how often you say that, darlin'," he added. "Might get my wife here all jealous."

_Idiot_, he heard in his mind, a contented warm glow around the word, even as Kaylee snorted, and he slipped his arm around Freya's waist.

He chuckled even as he felt a slight vibration run through the deck, knowing that Hank was using the manoeuvring thrusters to get them into just the right position so that from the outside it looked like his Firefly was trying to mount the Pelican-class, and his mind skittered back through the years to the first time he'd met Jez.

Monty had introduced them, at least in a roundabout way. It wasn't long after Mal had bought Serenity and hired Wash, when Kaylee was still sniffling in her bunk from homesickness.

"Can't make the drop-off, Mal," the old walrus had said, stroking his beard.

"Monty …" Mal felt the exasperation building up as he stared at the man on the vidscreen.

"Thought I could, but there's this _sha gua chun zi_ who thinks I ain't finished a job I did six weeks back, and he's insisting I come there in person and prove it. Only that's way over the other side of the system, and there's no chance of me getting the goods to you."

Exasperation was rapidly turning to anger. "Monty, from what I hear tell that stuff ain't gonna last. The vaccine's time stamped, and the folks on Paquin ain't gonna be too pleased if we get it there and it doesn't work. If I can't get it from you and deliver it safe in plenty of time –"

"Just hold your horses," Monty said. "I got me a substitute."

"What kind?"

"A Browncoat. Like us."

Mal was wary. "Can't say that makes me feel all kinds of warm and cozy."

"Just wait 'til you meet her. Just you see." Monty had smiled into his beard, like he knew something Mal didn't.

He _had_ met her, in a bar on St Albans, snow swirling in from outside as she came in from the cold, her brown coat buttoned up to the neck. She'd got another woman with her, introduced only as Laura, and for a long time Mal thought she was sly, with theirs being something more than just captain and gunhand relationship. It wasn't until she propositioned him some time and a few meetings later that he realised he had been very much mistaken, around about the time she bit him on the chest and made him yelp. They only went to bed together a handful of times, both realising it was just a physical thing between them, and it tailed away to a lasting friendship that had somehow managed to survive his marriage, and actually thrive.

That night, though, sitting in the smoky heat of the bar, enlivened by an occasional fight over by the pool table, they sized each other up, and luckily found neither wanting. It turned out Monty wasn't the only acquaintance they had in common, either, and as they enjoyed several, more companionable drinks they not only made the arrangements for handing over the vaccines, but began to relax and maybe even trust.

Standing here and now in the cargo bay, though, Mal could feel a low laugh running through Freya's body, and he knew she was listening in on his thoughts as he pulled her in tighter to his chest. "Can't stop peeking, can you?" he whispered.

"With Jez?" She shook her head. "I have to be on my toes, even more than with Kaylee."

"Now you know I never even thought of … you know … with Kaylee."

Freya grinned. "I know. You're too honourable for that. Jezebel, on the other hand …"

He kissed the nape of her neck. "Not a good idea to call her that, least not when she's within hearing."

No-one called her Jezebel. At least, no-one other than Noah, and even then only when he was really, _really_ angry with her. It was very rare, because he had such a forgiving nature, but it had happened on at least one occasion that Serenity's crew could remember.

It had been about two weeks after he'd been shot, something that was entirely his own fault, going into that place looking for trouble because of a row he'd started with her, and finding it in the worst possible way. At least they'd got to him before he bled out, but there had been times in the following few days when he'd almost wished they hadn't.

They'd met up with Serenity so Simon could take a look at him. The young doctor had said that, if a decent surgeon had got to him immediately, he might have still had use of his legs. He'd stressed the word _might_, but Jez had only heard the first part, and her guilt grew exponentially. She'd decided to take that job, against his advice, and they'd ended up on a moon with no hospital, no doctors, and no cargo. She was the reason he was confined to the wheelchair because that's what they'd been fighting over, and nothing and nobody was going to change her mind.

Noah didn't argue any more. He used to, at first, lying in the bed unable to move below his waist, hearing her ranting, seeing her throwing things, and he tried. He used his not inconsiderable oratory skills to make her see reason, to tell her to stop, to … but she wouldn't listen.

"How do you put up with me?" she always sobbed out later, when they were alone.

"Not sure." His always-reply.

"I'm sorry." She would touch the wheelchair.

"Not your fault." He'd say it every time, and wondered whether she'd ever believe it.

"I wasn't there."

"And if you had been, you'd have killed the _hwoon dahn_ before he shot me."

"My fault."

"No."

Eventually she'd fall asleep, and next morning have no memory of the conversation, or at least claim she couldn't remember. Noah never wanted to try and find out if she was lying or not, mainly because it was easier not to.

In the end, though, one warm spring evening on Calliope some two months after, when they'd set down so that the crews of Cherokee and Serenity could swap stories, and Simon could make sure he was healed properly, he told her to leave him.

In fact, what he'd said was, "Jezebel, just get out. Find someone else to obsess on, because I need a gorram wife, not a madwoman who only stays because she feels guilty."

She'd hit him. Hard. Enough to make his teeth ring and his jaw ache for days. Then she walked out.

It was Mal found her, sitting in the corner of a bar, her brown coat wrapped tightly about her as if she was cold, stinking of cheap whisky, and crying into her crossed arms. He'd paid the bill, picked her up and carried her back to his Firefly, letting Frey take her in hand.

Mal would never tell him what happened on board that night, nor what was said, but Noah could guess. It was enough that she'd walked back through that door the next morning, having told Marcel to start adapting Cherokee for a wheelchair, and announcing that she wasn't going anywhere, that he was stuck with her.

And the night they first had sex was mindblowing, when they realised Noah could still _feel_ …

Jez had Marcel putting up a complicated pulley system in their cabin almost as soon as the ship woke next morning, and the engineer complained for weeks that he felt like he was colluding in some kind of fetish.

Shaking his head slightly, Mal sighed, making the short hair above Freya's collar move in the breeze. "It's amazing the number of people you've managed to put together," he murmured in her ear.

"What?" She glanced at him over her shoulder.

"Breed and Dillon, Noah and Jez …"

"I didn't put them 'together', as you so delicately put it. That was Wash."

"Yeah, but the way I see it, you put Wash together with Zoe, seeing as you persuaded him to come see me about being my pilot, so I conjure you're to blame. And you can't say it wasn't you encouraged Hank to go after her, either."

"So it's all my fault, is it?" she asked, as a dull thud reverberated through the cargo bay.

"Surely is."

"I'll remember you said that."

He smiled into her hair. "You do that," he said so quietly she wasn't sure he'd spoken.

Hank's voice over the com broke into the anticipation. _"Mal, there's an odd group of folks want you to let them in,"_ he said. _"You want me to tell 'em to go –"_

River, standing next to Jayne by the door controls, pushed her hand down on the big red button.

"_Ah," _Hank went on, used to being pre-empted. _"See you've already opened up. Be down in a sec."_

There was a groaning sound as the inner doors slid back. Mal let go of Freya and walked past her, past the vibrating children, past his crew, and put his weight behind the small door. With a barely audible popping of his joints, and idly wondering if it was the seam in his pants tearing or a muscle in his back, he tugged it open.

Jez Thacker was leaning nonchalantly against the wall on the other side, and more figures were clustered at her back. "Permission to come aboard?" she asked, a wide grin on her features.


	3. Chapter 3

The crew had split up, and were now spread throughout the two ships, each gravitating towards their respective interests.

Kaylee slid out from under Cherokee's coil on the wheeled trolley, and looked up at Marcel. "You were right."

"I know I was." Marcel Delarue, his mid-brown skin shining in the glow of the worklights, sighed. "Just wish I wasn't."

Kaylee grinned. "Don't. I figure you got a bad batch of fuel last time, and it's all the gunk from that that's tacked the router."

"Oh, don't I know it." He went down onto his heels next to her, his hands resting between his thighs.

A year or so older than Kaylee, he was almost as tall as Jayne, but less bulky, and although he was much more at home taking engines apart than people, he was handy with a gun in his own right. His blonde, almost white hair made him stand out, especially against the cappuccino skin, but he always claimed that his colouring came from his father's side of the family, after a dalliance his great-grandma had with a freighter mechanic that left her with a smile on her face and a little extra present some nine months later. The rest of his family were redheads with pale skin, and even his baby sister teased him about being a changeling.

He grinned, his teeth seeming to gleam. "Jez's been on at me something cruel, as if it was my fault." He shook his head. "My fault! I told her not to go to Ferelli's on Ganesha, but did she listen?"

"No," Kaylee supplied, feeling as if she was right at home, listening to one of her brothers moaning. "Seems to be sometimes captains just don't know what's good for 'em."

"Oh, ain't that the case." Marcel let his ass fall to the deck with a thump. "I mean, money's one thing, but even I can't work miracles."

"A'course you can," his friend said stoutly, sitting up. "You keep Cherokee going fine."

"Until something breaks and I have to ask for help."

She patted him on the knee. "It ain't exactly every week."

"Sometimes …" He suddenly laughed. "Jez thinks I do it on purpose."

"It ain't your fault. That feller Jez bought her off of didn't spend nearly as much on the engine as the rest of the boat, and she has to understand that. And she's ex-Alliance, which makes a big difference."

Marcel smiled. "I will never get used to calling Cherokee 'she'."

"All boats are."

"Oh, I know that. But it just seems wrong somehow."

"Well, 'she' only needs a good scrub, new filters and router, then some flux on the joints."

"Only?"

This time Kaylee was the one laughing. "Don't worry. I'll help, and we'll get it done in no time. And I'm pretty sure there's some stuff I got off Leo that we can make fit."

"Kaylee, you're a gorram lifesaver, and if you weren't married I'd take you to bed."

"And if I wasn't married I might take you up on it." She remembered Bester, the tattoos adorning his body. "Something about mechanics …"

Marcel's laugh rang through the engine room.

* * *

Jayne and Noah were in the cargo bay, setting up the table for all of them, and even though Cherokee's pilot couldn't walk, he was more than capable of being of assistance. At the moment he was holding one of the planks in place as Jayne hammered it into position.

"You been working out?" Jayne asked, impressed by the wheelchair-bound man's arm muscles.

"This thing keeps me fit," Noah said, glancing down. "And Ida makes me have physio a couple of times a week, so my legs don't waste."

"That woman'd make men twice her size weep."

Noah chuckled. "Most men _are_ twice her size."

"True." Jayne laughed deep in his chest. Ida O'Brien was a diminutive woman with a heart the size of Cherokee, and a will even stronger than Mal's. "That don't stop her."

"Oh, I know. You should see the letters she gets when we stop off at the Skyplex. Makes me blush to read 'em. And everyone single one of 'em declares undying love for her."

Jayne shook his head. "It ain't even as if she's that pretty."

"Innate magnetism."

"What?"

"I figure it has to be that. Just like she looks at you when she's stitching you up, as if she's only doing this until something better comes along, only the other way around."

Jayne nodded this time, understanding completely. "Must be something like hypnotism." He peered at the younger man. "You never thought of taking her for a turn around the decks yourself?"

"And end up dead instead of in this chair? And not just dead, but cut up into lots of little pieces and scattered throughout the system."

"Jez?"

"Jez."

"Not that you would, either, would you?"

"Nope." Noah put his head onto one side. "You do realise they've changed us, don't you?"

"Our womenfolk?" Jayne exhaled heavily. "Yeah, I reckon maybe they have."

"Do you mind?"

"Do _you_?" the big man countered.

"Not a bit."

"Me neither. Sad, ain't we?"

"Married, Jayne."

"Got that right."

There was a moment's companionable silence, then Noah asked, lifting his head, "Do I hear a baby?"

"You ain't the only one," Jayne said darkly, heading to the other side of the bay and picking up the first of the crates they were going to use as chairs.

Simon appeared on the top catwalk, David Gabriel in his sling, yelling to the 'verse that he wasn't happy and everyone should know it. The young doctor had to raise his voice to be heard clearly. "Ida said can someone go and get the oregano."

Noah grinned. "I'll get it." He nodded up at the baby. "He always like that?"

"He's only a month old – I don't think 'always' counts." Simon closed his eyes briefly. "But, Buddha, I hope not."

"I only wondered why he was crying."

Simon shrugged. "He was born on Phoros, so it's possible he's not used to space flight yet."

"Might have an inner ear imbalance," Noah suggested.

"I checked that," the doctor explained. "And his temperature. And his food, his stomach … everything I can think of." He looked down at his son and sighed. "I'm beginning to think he's doing it to annoy everyone."

"Only beginning?" Jayne put in, putting the crate into position.

Noah laughed, and would have commented more, but River walked through the adjoined airlocks, Caleb on her hip. "Simon, he's done it again," she said, looking up at her brother and sighing.

"What with this time?" He started down the steps.

"I think it's a ball bearing."

Jayne crossed to his wife, lifting his son's chin so he could see up his nose.

Caleb looked up into his father's face. "Daddy?" He grinned, showing a few little white stubs of teeth and …

"Yep," Jayne confirmed. "Ball bearing."

"At least it's not a bullet this time," Simon said, joining them.

"That weren't my fault," the ex-merc growled. "Wasn't even one o' mine."

"Well, we'd better see about getting it out." Simon glanced down at David in his sling, considering the logistics of removing a small, spherical metal object from his nephew's nostril while wearing a baby.

"Give him to me," Noah suggested.

"No, I can –"

"Honestly. Jez keeps saying I mother everyone, so I might as well do it for real." Noah grinned.

"Well, if you don't mind." Simon was already unhooking the sling.

"Course I don't. I'll take him back to Cherokee and get those herbs for Ida." His face softened as he took the baby in his arms, cradling him against his chest. "Hey, there, young feller," he crooned quietly, his breath washing the tiny boy's face. "You're a handsome one, aren't you?"

David Gabriel filled his lungs once again, ready to scream out his indignation, then paused. He seemed to be considering his position, because his face screwed up slightly, and his lips pursed. Then he smiled.

"Wind," Jayne commented, grunting slightly as River elbowed him in the ribs.

"It's not wind," she said softly. "He likes Noah."

Indeed, far from filling the Firefly with the sound of a baby in distress, David started to gurgle happily, reaching up with his small hands to touch the man's face.

"Well, I'll be …" Simon couldn't finish.

"You and me both," Jayne agreed, dropping his arm around the doctor's shoulders and almost knocking him off his feet.

"It's probably the novelty value," Noah said quietly, not taking his eyes off the child's face.

"He likes you," River said firmly, then turned to glare at her brother. "And Caleb needs that ball bearing removed."

Simon sighed, half of him glad that David was quiet, and half wishing it had been him that had been able to accomplish the feat. "Fine," he said, watching as Noah carefully fastened the sling around his neck, making soft little sounds all the while. "One ball bearing-ectomy coming up."

* * *

Bethie hummed in satisfaction.

"You like that, do you?" Laura Addie asked, smiling as she moved the brush smoothly through the young girl's honey coloured hair as they sat in the tiny lounge on board Cherokee.

"Mmn," Bethie said. "Feels nice."

"Your hair's very pretty."

"Thank you."

They sat in silence for a minute, the only sound being Ethan reading aloud to Hope, Jesse and Ben from some of Laura's books. Born with a form of word-blindness, Laura's reading age was about eight or nine, mostly thanks to Jez and her patient tuition, so her material was simple enough for the boy to attempt, even if a few of the words defeated him. These he made up.

Listening to him talking about a dog called Harold, Bethie allowed her eyes to close, and inadvertently picked up on what Laura was thinking.

"Would have been a good Mama," she said quietly.

The brush stilled for a moment, then continued on its course. "You think?"

"Mmn. Real good."

Laura looked at the little girl, knowing that the thought that had gone through her mind was whether her own daughter would ever have looked like this, and wishing that she'd had the chance to find out. But circumstances had decreed she would never know. "Thanks," she whispered.

"You're welcome."

Laura hadn't ever intended to be a gunhand. In fact, growing up it had never occurred to her that she was going to be anything other than a wife and mother. As the oldest of seven children, she had done her fair share of looking after them, learning at a very young age how to change diapers, and her cooking, while not terribly imaginative, was at least edible.

Then her mother died, giving birth to a dead child. Laura was fourteen, her body barely beginning to show the curves she'd soon have, and now she had to be a full-time mother. And, for the most part, a father too, since hers had decided to crawl into a bottle and join his wife if he could at all manage it.

"I know it ain't fair," the local MD had said. "Not at your age. But there ain't nobody else, Laura. And you know we'll do what we can to help, even if it ain't much."

Not much was almost nothing, just a few extra credits she earned pulling weeds or washing for folks.

She killed her first man not six months later. He'd come off a ship put in for just a day and caught her in broad daylight, dragging her into bushes off the road. He'd held her down, despite her screaming and kicking, and was going to rape her, his stinking, alcohol laden breath foul in her face.

"Pretty little thing," he'd mumbled. "And I got just what you want."

He ignored her fighting back, backhanding her once across the cheek hard enough to make her vision darken a little, and sound to rush away from her ears.

As he fumbled at his pants, her questing hand found a rock, and she brought it up with as much force as she could muster, hitting him between the eyes, again and again.

She didn't remember standing up, her dress torn, bloodied, but she did remember staring down at the body, and marvelling at how easy it had been. She should have been throwing up, or at the very least wanting to hide from what she'd done. Except she didn't. She dragged the man back into town, bravado giving her strength she didn't know she possessed, and dropped him at the airlock to his ship, telling the captain to take his trash with him and dump it in space.

The local lawman, called to deal with her, took one look at the blood on her face, the bruises already showing, and told her to get home to her family.

No-one bothered her after that, not even to be friends. Some looked at her askance, fingering the weapons hung from their hips, and she'd taken to walking out into the desert most evenings with her Daddy's gun, practising. That came as easy to her as killing had apparently been, and as soon as her brother hit sixteen, she packed up her things, gave him what little coin she had managed to save, and left on the first transport.

She'd never intended to get caught up in a war, nor get pregnant from the first man to actually want her for her own sake, and not what he could get. He never even knew he was going to be a father, dying on some forgotten moon in a conflict he shouldn't have been fighting. And least of all did she intend her tiny daughter, only one year old, to succumb to a virus that swept Praxis, and have to bury her there.

It was only meeting with Jez in a store, each reaching for the same pack of ammunition and recognising a soulmate, that stopped her lying in the gutter and waiting for the Alliance to roll over her.

She sighed, and Bethie leaned closer to her legs. Looking down, Laura asked, "Would you like me to braid it for you?"

Bethie nodded. "Yes, please. And don't be sad. You have us now."

Laura glanced at the other children, looking at the pictures in the books. Except for Ethan. His blue eyes were unblinking, and the expression on his face was one she recognised from his father. "Do you think so?" she asked.

The little Tam nodded again. "Yes. All friends. 'Sides, you're my Auntie Laura."

She couldn't help the smile. "Am I?"

"Yes."

Ethan was nodding too.

"Why do you like me, Bethie?" Laura asked, leaning down and barely whispering.

"'Cause I can see the real you. The you that's inside." The girl tapped her own chest. "You hide it, but I can see it." She grinned. "All warm and fuzzy."

"Don't think anyone's ever described me as fuzzy before."

"You are."

Ethan got up and walked across to them, putting his small arm around her shoulders. "'N' you remind me of my Mama."

"You think?"

"'N'she's my Mama," Ethan went on. "I love her. Love you too." He kissed her cheek.

Laura had to laugh. "Is that a fact."

"Surely is." He grinned, then looked down at the hairbrush. "Me next?" he asked, running his fingers through his hair and pushing it back from his forehead.

"You want me to braid yours too?"

He appeared to consider the possibility. "Might stop Mama wanting to trim it," he allowed.

Bethie pushed him away. "Later," she said, sitting back around and settling against Laura's knees. "Much later."

* * *

Mal and Freya were sitting in Cherokee's kitchen around a wooden table much like their own, Zoe and Hank next to them, Jez pouring from a bottle of sake.

"I heard about Burt, but I didn't know you were involved." she said, finishing with her own mug, her face serious.

"My fault," Mal said. Maybe one day he'd be able to think of the crew of Road Runner and not see the other ship torn apart, the body parts they collected, but not today.

"No," Freya put in firmly. "You didn't set that bomb, that was Becca. And she's dead, so you have got to stop blaming yourself."

"Can't." It was just one word, but there was a wealth of sadness behind it.

"Sir, Frey's right." Zoe leaned forward, her own mug forgotten on the table in front of her. "Guilt will only get you so far, then it eats you alive from the inside. I know."

"Zoe –"

"I blamed you and River for a long time after Wash died. Maybe her more than you, but that's debateable. But I realised I had to let it go." She glanced at Hank. "Else it'd kill me too."

Mal put his hand on hers. "Still my fault."

"We didn't have to follow you."

"I still failed you."

"And I've got a husband and a son. Life moves on, Mal. It has to. I still miss Wash, and I always will. But I know Hank misses Risa." She glanced at the man in question, who was nodding. "I don't resent that. But you have to let go what you can't change."

Mal was impressed, not least by the fact that she used his first name, reserved for high days and holidays. And when she wanted him to understand her full meaning. "I guess I'll try, Zo."

Freya raised her eyebrows. "So I tell you to stop feeling guilty and you say you can't, but your first mate tells you the same and you say you'll try?"

He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "I love my wife."

"That won't … gorramit."

Mal grinned.

"I hate to bring us back to earth," Jez said, "but I'm still waiting to hear the why over Road Runner."

Serenity's captain sobered a little. "I guess it's right you should know," he said, and told her, with only a few interruptions from the others, of their adventures on first Ephesus with Niska, then at Serenity Valley, and Mara Tam. The only bit he left out was his torture at the old _hwoon dahn's_ hands, which he felt wasn't really anyone's business but his own.

"I didn't know," Jez said, shaking her head.

"No reason you should," Mal replied. "'Less you're one of 'em."

"A New Browncoat?" She smiled slightly. "No. I get into enough trouble being an old one."

"That's the truth," Noah said, wheeling expertly into the kitchen. "I've never seen a woman more attracted to making people mad."

"Only you, my love," she said sweetly, venom coated in sugar. "Only you."

Noah chuckled. "Hank, you ever feel the need for a trade, you let me know."

The pilot shook his head. "Zoe'd kill you, before you even managed to get out of that chair."

"But a hell of a way to go."

"So I'm not woman enough for you?" Jez asked.

"Didn't say that," Noah backtracked, still grinning. "Might've thought it, but …"

"Maybe I feel like a change too. Hank looks about my size … maybe _I'm_ the one who should suggest it."

"And miss out on all the fun?" He blew her a kiss. "Nah."

Mal leaned over and whispered into Freya's ear, "Sound familiar?"

She glanced at him, about to answer, then caught sight of what Noah had around his chest. "Wait a minute, is that David?"

Everyone stared at the sling, and, more importantly, at the sleeping occupant.

If Noah could have grinned wider, he would have. "Seems like I have the touch."

Mal turned to Jez. "Sorry, honey," he said, in the most non-apologetic tone he could muster. "Noah's gonna come with us as permanent babysitter."

"Over my dead body," she responded lightly.

"Considering the noise that kid's been making the past two days, that could be arranged."

Ida, in her early forties and with her long blonde hair caught into a messy bun at the nape of her neck, stuck her head around the door. "Grub's up," she said with a grin.

"Thank God for that," Jez said, pushing her chair back with a squeal and standing up. "Too much more of this mawkish sentiment and I'd be cutting someone's throat."

"Not your own?" Freya teased.

"Oh, not far gone enough for that."

"What about the oregano?" Noah asked.

Ida shrugged. "Didn't need it. I just wanted Simon out from under my feet. That man does fuss." She disappeared again in a puff of what looked like smoke but was probably flour to a chorus of laughter.


	4. Chapter 4

The conversation flowed around the dinner table, exchanges breaking off from the main group, odd words and half-arguments drawing attention before the discussion slipped smoothly on. Fiddler snuffled for titbits around the edge, while Maoli lay across Ethan's lap, accepting tiny, delicate mouthfuls as her due. Only the children were quiet, concentrating on eating as much as possible, Bethie in particular shovelling as hard as her spoon would allow, her new braids swinging around her ears.

_At the top of the table: _

_River, Mal and Jez …_

"I don't know why he does it."

"All kids go through a phase like that, _xiao nu_."

"I didn't."

"I did. I seem to recall a time back on Shadow when my Ma couldn't turn around but I had something stuck up my nose."

"But why?"

"Just 'cause it seemed to fit."

"And they say _I'm_ crazy?"

"I know what Mal means, though. Personally I used to try and eat things. Earth, twigs, bugs … just to see what they tasted like. And you can stop looking at me like that, River."

"And to think I used to like you …"

_Half-way down: _

_Kaylee, Marcel, Simon and Hank…_

"So just let the filter sit for another half hour and you'll be up and plaguing the 'verse again."

"Plaguing? You make it sound like I'm some kind of bacteria."

"If'n you are, I'm thinking there's no cure for you."

"Doc, I've changed my mind. I don't think I'm gonna steal your wife away from you after all."

"Your loss is definitely my gain."

"Aw, honey …"

"Do you have to do that at the dinner table?"

"You think that's bad? Some of the stuff I happen to catch sight of when I'm heading up for my shift, it's enough to make you go blind. And a pilot needs his eyes, too."

"I'll tell Zoe on you, Hank."

"Aw, Kaylee …"

_At the heel: _

_Jayne, Laura and Ida …_

"The guy didn't know what he had."

"And you didn't think to tell him?"

"Nah. Got me a good gun for half the price."

"And what's this one's name?"

"Not sure. Maybe I'll call it Ida."

"Because it's small and beautiful?"

"Because it's got a kick like a mule. Ow!"

"Just practising."

_Other side: _

_Noah, Freya and Zoe …_

"It's just a knack."

"One that's likely to come in handy when you have some of your own."

"I don't think that's likely to happen. Jez has never shown any sign of wanting any more children. I think Flynn was enough."

"But you can, can't you? I mean …"

"Zoe, if you mean, by that somewhat disgusting gesture, am I fully functional in that department, I have to say yes. Want to see?"

"You even think of it and I'll forget I'm strapped up."

"So? It makes us about equal."

Laughter rolled up the table.

Eventually everyone had had enough to eat, and the conversation died pleasantly back. Privately most of Serenity's crew were of the opinion that Ida's cooking wasn't on a par with Kaylee's Ma, or even Mrs Boden, but none of them were willing to risk hurting their friend's feelings. So as Mal leaned back in his chair and quite openly undid the top button on his pants, they all nodded as he said, "Marry me. Or at the very least leave Jez and come and work for me."

Ida, a wide grin on her pixie face, shook her head. "I've got a home, Mal. And I somehow think Freya wouldn't be too happy having to share her bed with a third person."

"Oh, I don't know," the woman in question said. "For food like that on a daily basis I might consider turning sly."

Jayne's eyes glazed a moment, until River kicked him under the makeshift table. He flashed her a wide, only slightly guilty grin.

"It's not that good." Ida coloured prettily, belying her years.

Mal chuckled. "Ida, some of our usual grub's almost as bad as _liang cao_."

Simon stirred. "I hope you're not comparing my food to army rations."

"Nope. Not yours. And I'm not saying who's I am comparing it to either. Not if I don't wanna be sleeping on the couch for the foreseeable."

Amid the general laughter Freya said, "We'll be having words, later, Mal."

"Lookin' forward to it, _xin gan_."

"Talking of sleeping," Zoe put in, "I think there's a number of children ought to be in bed." Her gaze fell on her son.

"Not tired, Mama," Ben said, then yawned mightily.

"No?"

He smothered his mouth with his hand, then added, somewhat indistinctly, "No, Mama."

"It's bedtime."

"But if we go to bed they'll be gone and we won't see them again," Ethan explained, shifting in his seat and annoying Maoli, who yowled softly and jumped down.

"Is that the case?" Mal smiled.

"We need to be getting going," Noah said gently. "We've got business to be done."

Jez nodded. "Beaumonde first, then on to Triumph." She twinkled at Mal. "Want me to give my regards to Elder Gammon for you?"

Mal sighed theatrically. "I knew I should never have told you about Saffron."

"Alcohol always did do that to you. Make you voluble. And gullible, too, from what I recall."

"Well don't recall anything further. I've a notion there's a lot of my secrets inside your head."

"You wouldn't believe it."

"And there's some around here I wouldn't want to find out."

Hank suddenly looked very interested. "Just fun secrets, or blackmailable secrets?"

"I wouldn't worry," Mal said to his pilot. "You ain't ever gonna find out." He grinned at Jez again. "Best that you be on your way, then." He glanced at Kaylee. "They okay to go?"

"Should be all set." She turned to Noah. "Keep her to half-speed for the next dozen hours or so, then you'll be right as rain."

He lifted his mug to her. "Will do. And thanks, Kaylee."

"My pleasure."

"And we'll be searching Cherokee 'fore she leaves to make sure you ain't kidnapped my mechanic," Mal added.

"The thought never crossed my mind."

"No?"

Marcel shook his head. "I knew nobody loved me, but this is ridiculous."

The party broke up, with Freya stacking the plates ready to take back to Serenity's kitchen.

"I can help," Zoe offered as Kaylee scampered back into Cherokee's interior to get her tools, Marcel following at a slightly slower pace.

"Nope, you're not," Hank said firmly. "You ain't gonna be doing anything for a few more days." The pilot was shaking his head firmly.

"I'm perfectly capable," his wife said, getting to her feet.

"No, you're not." Simon shook his head. "You're going to be strapped up for at least another week, and after that you'll be on light duties for a month. And lots more physio."

"What exactly happened?" Jez asked, adding another plate to the pile.

"I fell," Zoe said succinctly.

Hank was more effusive. "We were playing tag, and Zoe was it. She went to catch Ben only he swerved and Zoe slipped and went down and …" He grimaced. "I heard it go."

"Me too."

"Sorry Mama," the little boy said, then yawned again.

"Not your fault," she said, putting her hand on his head.

Simon lifted Hope onto his hip, his little girl dozing so much she didn't notice, except to put her arms around his neck. "It aggravated an old injury, at least from the scans I took, and tore the rotator cuff."

"I dislocated it once," Zoe explained. "During the war."

"Saving my life," Mal added.

"I guess maybe I never let it heal properly," she finished.

"More than likely." Simon held out his hand. "Come on, Bethie."

"But Daddy …"

"Come on."

"See them all again soon," River said, already up on the catwalk outside the shuttle, Caleb snoring slightly on her shoulder.

"Yeah?" Mal looked up at her, Jesse in his own arms. "You see that, do you?"

"I do." She smiled. "Until then …" she murmured and ducked inside.

"See?" Simon said to his daughter. "So say goodbye and come to bed."

Bethie dragged a huge sigh from deep within her soul, put her head on one side and looked at the remaining visitors. "Bye," she said, dragging her feet as she was escorted out of the cargo bay. "Maybe next time there'll be pressies," she added as she disappeared.

Jayne glanced at Freya. "Guess it's up to me to help," he said, grabbing a last slice of bread from the platter and swiping it around the meat dish. Popping it into his mouth he picked up one of the tall stacks. "Race yah," he said around the food and heading quickly for the stairs, his boots making a lot of noise on the metal treads.

Freya laughed, but took hold of a couple of serving dishes and followed him. "See you soon, guys," she called as she disappeared.

"I'll be getting these to bed too," Mal said, touching Ethan on the shoulder. "Come on, big feller. You can help me with Jesse then I'll come and tuck you in."

"Too big to be tucked in," the little boy said, puffing his chest out.

"Is that the case? So you don't need a story either, do you?"

Ethan considered, weighing up the pros and cons. "Not that big," he conceded.

"I kinda thought not." Mal smiled as he turned to Jez. "'Spect you'll be gone by the time I'm done, so all I'll say is, safe trip, and maybe we can meet up again soon, spend more time in each other's company."

"Won't Freya get jealous?" Jez asked, looking up towards the top hatch.

"Oh, only a lot."

"You like to live dangerously, Malcolm Reynolds."

"I do that, Jezebel Thacker. I do that." Mal grinned wider, and headed towards the crew quarters, Ethan and Jesse waving until they were out of sight.

Hank moved closer to Noah's chair. "I'd best be taking him."

Noah chuckled. "I did wonder if anyone'd notice." He glanced down at the baby still in the sling around his chest.

"It's because he's quiet," Hank said, waiting for Cherokee's pilot to undo the fastening before snuggling the sleeping child against his chest. "That's how come Simon forgot him."

"And are you going to let him forget ever again?"

Hank grinned. "Not a bit."

"I thought not." An idea came to him. "Come on back to my bunk for a sec. There's something I think maybe might help."

"You know I ain't sly, don't you?" Hank said, following Noah back through the airlock. "And if I was, you ain't exactly my type."

Zoe felt Ben tug her pants leg. "Mama, what did Daddy mean?"

She looked down. "I'll explain later. In maybe thirty years or so." Lifting her head she smiled at Jez. "Be seeing you soon."

"At least according to River."

"Oh, she's right more times than she's wrong." Zoe pushed Ben gently ahead of her towards the stairs. "Which is kinda scary when I come to think of it."

* * *

In less than half an hour Serenity had disengaged, and was on her way, and in the captain's bunk Mal had just removed his boots.

"So what were you and Jez chatting about?" he asked as he twisted his suspenders off his shoulders.

"When?" Freya plumped the pillow a little.

"Just before they left." He'd seen her in a huddle by the cargo bay door controls with the captain of Cherokee just before she had closed them up. He'd been in the entrance to the common area, watching his wife.

"It wasn't anything." She undid her pants and slid them off, tossing them onto the chair.

"So why not tell me? It looked sort of serious."

She paused in the act of unbuttoning her shirt. "I was just asking if she'd heard from Flynn lately."

"Had she?"

"No." She shrugged the fabric off, her face unusually serious. "She doesn't even know where he is."

"I'm sure he's fine." Mal thought back to the last time he'd seen Jez's son, and the resentment he could tell had taken root in the boy's soul.

"He's not fine, Mal."

"And you can't fix it."

She glared at him. "I didn't say I could."

"This isn't your fight." He spoke quieter, more gently.

Freya closed her eyes briefly. "I know. I just …"

He searched for something to say, to change the subject. Ah, yes. "You know, I'm surprised Jez didn't say something about Inara," he commented. "Seeing as there ain't no love lost between them."

"Who said she didn't?" Freya wriggled out of her panties and slipped under the sheet, leaving it tenting on her hip, but her top half exposed. "Why?"

"Hmmn?" He had been mesmerised, as always, by her tattoo, and now his gaze transferred to the expanse of soft, feminine flesh. It didn't matter how often he saw it, knew it was hidden beneath her clothing all the time, that he could –and did – have the privilege of seeing it whenever he wanted … her perfect, full breasts and skin ghosted by the palest of fine scars still had the power to render his brain into a state resembling jello.

She smiled indulgently, well aware, without needing to peek, of where his brain had gone, and grateful that he had. Playing with the silver Firefly on the chain around her neck, she said, "Maybe I should cover up. Then you'd answer."

In a moment he was sitting on the bed, dressed only in his pants. "Don't you dare."

"I was considering buying some nightgowns. You know, serviceable ones. Red flannel, maybe."

"Do they make red flannel night gowns that are skimpy and see-through?" He ran a hand down her arm from her shoulder, feeling her tremble a little under his fingers.

"I doubt it." She chuckled throatily. "Full length, sleeves to the wrist, covered up from neck to –" She had to stop, since he had leaned down and pressed his mouth onto hers, and all thoughts of nightgowns, flannel or otherwise, and Jez's son were lost into the 'verse.

* * *

Noah watched out of the bridge window as the smaller Firefly dwindled and disappeared, but he still gazed after her.

"Penny for them?" Jez asked, leaning down and wrapping her arms around her husband's shoulders. She didn't show him physical affection when anyone else was watching, but when they were alone he knew she wanted to touch him as much as possible.

"Just thinking."

"You know that's not good for you."

He chuckled, holding her hands close to his chest. "It's just … you know when someone's said something important, only you can't for the life of you remember what it was?"

"You think there was something like that?"

"No idea. But I have the feeling River was right, and it won't be long before we see Mal and the others again."

She slid around onto his lap, her lips close to his. "Then we don't need to worry for a while, do we?"

"I guess."

"So what did you give Hank?" she wanted to know.

"Oh, just an old sweater of mine. I figured maybe it was my smell that made young David Tam quieten down like he did."

"I'd've thought it would make him run screaming."

"Well, luckily, he ain't old enough to run anywhere. Something we've got in common."

"Mmn." She studied his face, the openness she loved so much. "Our course locked in?"

"Locked in."

"So we have a few minutes?" She undid the front of his shirt.

"A few." He smiled. "How come you always get amorous after you've seen Mal Reynolds?" he asked.

"Oh, just lucky, I guess."

"For me," he agreed, and pulled her down to him, and then there were no words.


	5. Chapter 5

"_Mal, we're coming up on Lazarus. Be about fifteen minutes to touchdown."_

Sitting at the old wooden table in the kitchen, Mal heard an odd echo as Hank's voice came over the com, then a split later wandering down the corridor from the bridge. He smiled a little, then turned his attention back to the information scrolling slowly on the portable Cortex link Freya used for lessons.

'_Come join the Empress of Sihnon in her signature cruise! Taking in the Winter Festival on her home world, the Empress also voyages through the darkest of nights to the ruins of Ling Miao on Aegis, where a son et lumiere presentation brings the ancient temple to life! Then it's on to Londinium, and who can resist the call of the premiere Opera House, an exact replica of La Scala from Earth-that-was? And no trip to the Core would be complete without visiting Osiris, Ariel, and just a hint of the untamed with a visit to Persephone and Beaumonde … why, there's so much we might not be able to fit it all in! And that's without even mentioning all the activities going on aboard the Empress herself … you won't want to leave!'_

He always distrusted anything that had that many exclamation marks. And Ling Miao? Why would anyone want to go there? He shuddered slightly, just the thought of that place bringing back memories of wooden plaques, spikes, curses, and 40th birthday parties. Oh, and balloons. He still hadn't forgiven Jayne for that.

Hands snaked down his chest, and someone breathed in his ear, "I love you."

"What for?"

"Doing what you said you'd do and look at the cruise brochure."

"I still think it's a bad idea." He moved enough to look over his shoulder at his wife. "You know there ain't any prices on this."

Freya laughed lightly. "Of course there isn't, Mal. If you have to ask the price you can't afford it."

"Then –"

"Valentia and Phoebe are very wealthy young women. You saw Kilbrook's last estimate. They could buy a dozen tickets and not feel the pinch."

"That ain't the problem."

She slid around him to sit on the seat next to his. "I think they've been very patient. It's been weeks since they broached the idea, and you've been procrastinating."

"I ain't never procrastinated in my life," he protested. "My Ma would've tanned my hide if she'd caught me procrastinating."

Freya had to smile. "Now, we both know you know exactly what that means."

He sighed. "I know, honey. But … out there, in the middle of nowhere, nobody to hear if they get into trouble …"

"On a ship with several hundred other people. And guards."

"What about when they get to these places?" He tapped the screen. "Who knows what might happen to 'em?"

Freya clucked. Twice.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.

"Mother hen. Wanting to keep all her chicks under her wing and not let them grow up."

"Is that wrong?"

"No. Just impossible."

He sighed again. "I know." He glanced at the representation of the Empress of Sihnon orbiting a green planet. "And I'm blaming you."

"I fully admit I suggested it." She leaned on her elbow on the old wood. "They're young. They should be able to go out and enjoy themselves. To taste life while they can. And thanks to you, they have the money to do it, too."

"My own worst enemy," Mal muttered. He wanted to argue more, but … "Hang on a sec. Did you just sigh?"

She looked up from watching the screen, an expression on her face almost identical to her daughter's when she'd been caught out in some minor misdemeanour or other. "No."

"Then you exhaled with meaning." His eyes narrowed a little. "Don't tell me you're jealous. That you'd like to go cruising on that … that."

"Maybe," she conceded. "A little."

Some of her words rolled around his brain again … young … enjoy themselves … taste life … A metaphorical lightbulb went on over his head. "You would have, wouldn't you? If'n you hadn't gone to that place …" He didn't mention the Academy, calling it 'that place' about as close as he managed if he could help it.

This time she nodded. "It was a tradition."

He moved his chair closer to hers. "Wanna tell me about it?"

"Just something else I missed out on."

"Frey …"

She gazed into his blue eyes, at their softest now. "Okay. It was something that had gone on for generations. As soon as a Rostov girl had celebrated her eighteenth birthday, she was taken out."

"Out? You mean like abandoned?"

"No." She grinned as she thumped him lightly on the pad of his arm. "Back on Earth-that-was, girls used to become debutantes and went to any number of balls and parties. Out here, though, it was traditional to take a cruise."

"And the more it cost the better it looked to the rest of your high-falutin' society?"

"Something like that."

"I'm figuring, being a Rostov, yours would've been pretty extravagant."

"Probably. But there was a purpose behind it, too. Girls were meant to have a good time, but also to be on the lookout for a suitable, and suitably wealthy young man, although my grandmother always said it was the best opportunity to fall in love with someone who was anything but."

"So I'd've still stood a chance with you?"

"If you'd been a waiter, or a steward …" Freya's eyes flashed with mischief. "I could have had my way with you and nobody would have been any the wiser."

"You still can." He leaned forward and touched her lips with his. "But this ain't gonna make me feel any better about letting Val and her sis out alone."

"Not alone, Mal. I've been speaking to Dillon, and he's got several possible bodyguards in mind."

"Still don't like the idea."

"And they'll hate the idea of someone watching them all the time, so I think you're even."

He smiled. "You're evil, Freya Reynolds."

"And just you remember that." This time she kissed him, although after only a second it was difficult to tell who had initiated what.

"Gorramit," Jayne muttered, wandering into the kitchen for a snack. "Place gets more and more like a whorehouse."

The couple at the table ignored him.

* * *

As always, Bethie and most of the other children were poised by the cargo bay doors as the Firefly made planetfall, and Simon had to smile. His little daughter – his _eldest_ child, as he had to remind himself – was never going to wait patiently for anything, and he could see man-shaped trouble in the future. A long way in the future, he hoped, then added a prayer that at least it wouldn't be someone like Jayne. Then he yelped and grabbed his arm.

"She could do worse than have a man who loves her for her," River said quietly, watching him rub where she'd pinched him. "My Jayne is my rock. He ties me to the now when my brain wants to fly to the corners of the 'verse." He eyes narrowed slightly, and an expression swept her face that he recognised. "Of course, corners is the wrong word. Can a possibly infinite space _have_ corners? Is infinity possible in and of itself? What is outside?"

Simon grinned. This was his sister, easily distracted. Except when she pinched him again. "Ow!"

"And I still know what you're thinking."

"I thought you weren't supposed to peek?" He knew he was going to be bruised.

"Get Kaylee to rub it for you. And you're my brother. Boob."

Simon rolled his eyes.

Jayne laughed as he came down the steps from the shuttle, taking his time because Caleb was attempting to traverse the stairs on his own. When the kids started walking, Mal had had the ex-mercenary string nets under all the open catwalks, but accidents could still happen, so the big man was taking extra care.

"She beating up on you again, doc?" he asked though.

Simon was rubbing hard, but it still hurt. "Yes. Can't you control her?"

"Nope. Never learned how. And neither did you, from the looks of things."

"I know." Simon sighed. "I just wish …" He looked at his sister. "Less with the pinching, okay?"

"Okay." She slapped him instead.

Jayne had to swallow back the guffaw that threatened. "Riv, honey … don't draw blood."

"Yes, Jayne." She smiled sweetly, then turned to watch her son.

"You listen to him, but not your own brother," Simon groused, then flinched as she held up her hand, her thumb and forefinger making a pinching motion.

"Mama!" Caleb gazed at her, his eyes wide, chuckling to himself. "Mama!" he called again, negotiating the last step before standing proudly on the bay floor.

River scooped him up into her arms. "Who's a clever boy?" she murmured. "Who's his Mama's clever Caleb, then?"

The little boy kissed her cheek.

"Guess one of us has to be clever, 'cause it sure ain't me," Jayne growled, slicking his arm around his family. "And won't be long before he's runnin' us ragged."

"I don't mind," River said.

"Me neither."

Caleb wriggled to be put down, and mindful of her son's wishes River set him on his feet and watched as he ran, a trifle unsteadily, to the other children. Fiddler looked up at him and gave an experimental bark, as if wondering what the delay was.

"_Okay, folks, we're down." _Hank's voice filled the cargo bay. _"If you'd like to –"_

The doors were already sliding open, Bethie's hand on the button.

"_Will you stop doing that?"_ the pilot complained.

As soon as the ramp touched the ground the children were off, yelling greetings to Inara standing waiting patiently, but not pausing in their race to get to something much more exciting, the little brown dog yapping excitedly at their heels.

"Where are they off to?" Inara asked, seeing Caleb trying gamely to keep up, Jayne and River not far behind.

Simon wandered out into the warm sunshine. "In order of priority, I'd say it was … checking their rooms, seeing if Mrs Boden has any cookies, then making sure the treehouse is still there."

Inara laughed lightly. "I'm sure you're right. Although I was hoping you could get Bethie to leave Fiddler on board."

"Why?"

"Giselle's just come into season, something she appears to do with monotonous regularity. I've already had to beat the neighbouring dogs off … and you can take that look off your face."

"What look?"

"The one that says you're visualising just such an occurrence."

"Well, an ex-Companion thrashing around with a stick … you have to admit, it's pretty good."

"Just don't. And since Fiddler has already had his wicked way with her once … three dogs I can just about manage. Any more and I'm likely to take to my heels and run for the hills."

Simon tried unsuccessfully to banish _that_ image from his mind as well. Something about this elegant and normally sure of herself woman … but back to business. "As it happens, you don't need to worry. At least about Fiddler. I did wonder, so I chemically castrated him."

Inara's eyes widened. "What?"

"It's all right, it's only temporary. But for the next couple of weeks it doesn't matter what he does, we won't be leaving Giselle with any little gifts."

"And it won't hurt him?"

"Only his pride."

Inara laughed lightly, and he could see a speculative gleam in her irises. "Could you do that for Giselle?"

"Well, not this time. If she's already in season it wouldn't be efficacious. But I can certainly prepare something for you for next."

"That would be wonderful," Inara said gratefully.

They could hear Fiddler barking happily somewhere in the orchard.

"Not that I could have stopped her bringing him anyway," Simon admitted. "She never listens to me."

"Of course she does," Inara said, patting him on the arm. "When it's important." She looked around. "Where's Kaylee? And the new arrival?"

A look of pride warmed his face. "My wife is getting my son ready for his grand entrance." The emphasis he put on the word 'son' made Inara smile.

"Well, I can't wait to see him."

Mal appeared at the top of the ramp. "Hey, there 'Nara."

"Hello, Mal." She smiled up at him.

"Where's Sam? You finally worn him out and buried him in the orchard?"

Inara looked back at Simon. "By the way, does that injection work on ship's captains as well?"

Simon's laughter echoed through the bay, while Mal looked on, suspicious that he was being insulted but not quite sure how.

* * *

Valentia and Phoebe Reilly didn't say a word, just welcomed the crew and played with the children.

"They're bursting to know your decision," Freya said to Mal as they got ready for dinner.

"Really? I kinda figured they'd lost interest."

She turned on him, her hands on her hips, wearing nothing but a pair of panties. "Now, you know that's not true."

He smiled, watching her in the mirror as he shaved for the second time that day, at her insistence. "You stand there like that and I'm liable to cut my own throat. Or at the very least give myself a scar to rival Jayne's."

"You're standing there pretty much the same."

He glanced down at his bare chest. "Yeah, but it might have escaped your attention, but I'm a man."

She wrinkled her nose at him, but grabbed the seafroth coloured dress from the bed, slipping it over her head. "Better?"

"No bra?"

"I thought I'd go unfettered."

He groaned slightly, having to put down the naked blade, not trusting his hand. "Honey, please. If'n I know you're all … free under there, I ain't gonna be able to hold a civilised conversation."

"Fine."

Pulling the dress off again, she quickly slipped her bra on, adjusting herself in the cups while he watched her reflection, wondering if he could take a cold shower before heading to the dining room. A twitch of her lips suggested she'd picked up on his stray thought.

"Stop that," he chided gently.

"Not doing a thing," she said, sitting on the bed and strapping on flat sandals. "And you're not going to change the subject. I think Val and Phoebe have been very restrained. Personally I'd have tied you up and not let you go until you'd told me."

"Another image I'm going to enjoy later." He grinned, then went back to shaving, taking the lather from the left side of his face.

"They could still go without your permission."

"I know."

"And I've been thinking."

Yet again he put the razor down. "Is that a good idea?"

"You're probably not going to think so."

* * *

"Where are they?" Simon asked as he took Bethie's knife and fork from her. "Just wait, sweetie."

"Hungry, Daddy."

"I know. But we have to wait for everyone to arrive."

Inara, sitting at the head of the table, shrugged. "I don't think we need to. I have no idea what they're up to."

"I do," Kaylee piped up. She'd been the last to table, at least so far, having put David Gabriel (as he was coming to be called) down in the nursery. One end of the baby monitor sat next to her plate. "When I came by their room, they were arguing."

"Arguing?" Zoe's eyes narrowed. "What about?"

"I don't go 'round listening at doors!" the young mechanic said petulantly. Then she grinned. "Anyway, the wood's too thick."

"Maybe I should go and see if they're okay," Simon said, putting his napkin down on the snowy white cloth.

"That might be a good idea," Inara said, worrying slightly.

"No need," River said, making sure her cutlery was equally spaced and exactly perpendicular.

"Are you sure about that?" Zoe asked.

The psychic didn't answer, just looked up expectantly at the door.

It opened, and Freya hurried through, Mal only a pace behind her.

"Oh, I didn't realise we were keeping everyone," she said, sitting down quickly and smoothing her dress over her thighs.

Mal took the seat opposite. "Yeah, sorry, 'Nara."

"Right. Good," the ex-companion said, far too brightly. "Then I think we can begin."

"Daddy?" Bethie asked. "Can I have some dinner? Pleeeease?"

As nearly everyone smiled, and Simon sighed, Zoe leaned over towards Mal.

"Sir? Is everything okay?"

"It's shiny, Zoe. Me and Frey just had a little disagreement."

"And yet you're all in one piece." She looked him up and down. "I'm guessing she won."

"You don't have much faith in me, do you?"

"I know how you feel about her, sir."

"Hmmn."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Nope. Not a gorram thing." He nodded at the strapping holding her arm down. "You just concentrate on getting better."

She knew she wasn't going to get anything else out of him, so it was with reluctance that she said, "Yes, sir."

It wasn't until everyone had eaten their fill, and the slight tension had eased, that Mal spoke up. "If you'd all stop bumping your gums," he called. "I've got something I need to say."

Conversations ceased, and the room fell silent.

"Go ahead, Mal," Hank said. "We're all ears."

Mal glanced at Freya, who nodded. "Okay. Well, as you're probably aware, when I was laid up after having the doc stick his hands in my chest, it was suggested a certain couple of young ladies might like to go on a cruise."

Val and Phoebe sat up, and the silence became even louder. "Uncle Mal?" the elder of the two asked.

He went on, "Now, I've been taking a look at the stuff you sent me, and I've decided that, well …" He could see them almost vibrating with anticipation. "Inara seems to think it's a good idea, so I guess that's good enough for me."

"Uncle Mal?" This from Phoebe. "Is that … a yes?"

"It is."

"Uncle Mal!" the twins chorused, getting up so fast that their chairs fell over, rushing around to his side of the table to hug him.

"Hey, now, I kinda need to breathe," he protested after a minute.

"Oh, sorry, Uncle Mal," Val said, letting go and straightening up.

Phoebe held on a moment longer, placing a kiss on his cheek, before joining her sister.

"There's a couple of conditions, though," Mal said, trying hard to maintain a serious exterior, even though the rest of his crew were grinning wildly.

"Yes, Uncle Mal."

"Like I told you before, you ain't going alone. I don't care what anyone says, it ain't safe for two pretty young ladies such as yourselves to be out in the 'verse without some kind of protection."

"You gonna get Dillon to find someone?" Jayne asked.

"I am." Mal looked back at the girls. "But I ain't gonna make you wait. Not no more. We'll take you as far as Beaumonde where you can pick up the liner."

"But Mal," Inara began. "Who's going to go with them?"

"I am," Freya said, and everyone at the table stared at her.


	6. Chapter 6

Freya's announcement silenced the room more effectively than if she'd said she was planning on turning Reaver. Of all of them, only River wasn't staring, more concerned with Caleb not choking on his food than her surrogate mother's announcement she was intending to accompany the Reilly girls on their cruise. Besides, she knew anyway, having picked it up while Freya and Mal were still arguing.

"You're going with them?" Simon asked finally, getting his tongue under control.

"Mal's right," Freya said, glancing at her husband. "I don't feel happy about the girls being let loose on an unsuspecting 'verse either, considering the damage I think they could do." She smiled at Val and Phoebe, whose budding objections were silenced as they realised she was joking. "And the truth is they need some kind of bodyguard, if nothing else to fight off all the young men who are bound to fall in love with them. And it really wouldn't be fair to make them wait any longer. So I'll be it, at least until the liner gets to Persephone."

"How long'll that be?" Kaylee wanted to know, visions of scented oils, huge bath towels and pampered from head to toe until she was sick blooming in her mind.

"Ten days or so. Two weeks, tops, if we pick up the liner at Beaumonde." Freya laughed. "And I wasn't thinking of going alone. I think Zoe should come as well."

The dark woman's eyes widened. "Me?"

"Zoe?" Hank echoed.

"I think it would do her good, make sure she got some rest and relaxation." Freya looked at Simon. "The strapping's coming off soon, isn't it?"

"In a few days," the doctor agreed. "Then it will just be a case of gentle exercise."

"Something she might not get on board," Mal put in, for some reason glancing at his pilot as he did so, who managed to look affronted.

"I'm fine, sir," Zoe said. "And don't I have a say?"

"There's low grav pools, gymnasia, massage therapists …" Freya laid out the extras on the table, making Kaylee drool even more. "I don't think she could be in better hands."

"It would certainly make for good therapy," Simon said slowly. "And they will have a fully equipped hospital on board."

"I'm hoping none of us is likely to confirm that," Freya laughed. "But yes, there'll be doctors on hand. None as good as you, of course, but adequate."

"Honey?" Hank looked at his wife. "Did you know about this?"

Zoe shook her head slowly. "Not a word."

"You don't have to, of course." Freya shrugged. "But all that luxury, just imagine it."

"Do you want to?" Hank wanted to know.

"Well …" Zoe bit her lip.

"I mean, if you do, it's only a fortnight. I'm sure me and Ben can cope for that long." He grinned, even if it was a trifle lop-sided. "Be a chance for us to have some boy time, eh?" He ruffled his son's hair.

"Yes, Daddy," the little boy said, nodding hard. "Momma will have fun too."

"That she would."

"Then perhaps …" Zoe glanced at Mal, not exactly for permission, but more for his thoughts.

He chuckled. "Zo, me and Frey argued over this more'n anything. Whether I can cope without my right hand. Even if you ain't got use of yours for the moment." He nodded towards the strapping. "But she's right. A few days relaxing, you'll come back stronger than ever. And I guess we can manage."

"Thanks for that glowing recommendation." The dryness of her tone was palpable.

"But I haven't finished." Freya dropped the last bombshell. "So Zoe and me are going as chaperones, but as neither of us is too sure of etiquette, I thought maybe Inara might like to come with us."

"Me?" If an ex-Companion could squeak, Inara almost reached hypersonic.

"Why not? You know which knife to use, and I don't mean sticking it in someone's back."

Inara coughed to clear the obvious frog in her throat. "Freya Reynolds, you know exactly what knife to use and when, and I do mean waggling it in someone's spine."

"Waggling?" It wasn't quite a smirk on the other woman's face, but close to.

"Yes. Waggling. And you're impossible."

"Why? Because I think it might do you good?"

"Why should I need anything like that?" Inara closed her eyes briefly. "I have my home, I have the other girls to look after, and Sam won't be back for a few days, so I couldn't possibly –"

"Now, 'Nara," Mal interrupted. "It's gonna be a week 'fore we need to get going, plenty of time to make other arrangements."

"What if I don't want to?"

Mal's eyes snapped to Freya's, and the 'conversation' they'd had played through his mind again. "You'd be doing me a favour," he said finally. "Keep these two outta trouble. And I ain't meanin' the girls." He flashed the younger Reilly twins a smile, and they coloured hotly.

"I'd consider taking offence at that," Freya put in. "If I didn't agree with you."

"Phew." Mal mimed wiping sweat from his forehead, making the children giggle. "Thought for a moment there I might be on the couch tonight."

"It's a comfortable couch. You should ask Sam," Inara said, her eyes slightly narrowed.

"He's made acquaintance with it already?" Mal grinned. "So the honeymoon's over?"

"We're not married, Mal."

"Yeah, about that. You know how I feel about folks livin' in sin."

"Oh, shut up." Inara stared at him until he subsided, the smug look still on his face. Still, there was more to the suggestion than just playing chaperone, that was obvious, and she had a sneaking suspicion she knew what it was.

_It'll be fun_, she suddenly heard in her mind, and she almost jumped from her seat. Only her Companion training kept her exterior calm and collected.

_Frey?_ she thought back.

_And I've only told Mal._

Inara let her dark eyes fall on her friend. _That was in confidence_. She formed the words carefully, not sure how to actually go about having a mental conversation with a psychic.

There was the impression of a smile, echoed on Freya's face. _It still is._

Ethan looked from his mother to his aunt, and sighed deeply, echoed by Bethie, who took the opportunity of nobody watching the children to reach out and snag yet another dumpling from the large serving dish.

"Well, I suppose I could." Inara spoke slowly. "As long as Sam's back, and Mrs Boden doesn't mind."

"Aunt Inara, does this mean we don't get our party?" Rosemary asked, always the more outspoken of the two younger twins.

"No, I think that can go ahead. Just don't run Sam ragged."

Rosemary and Letitia exchanged a look that didn't exactly bode well for the good Dr Nazir. "Yes, Aunt Inara," they chorused.

"I mean it."

"Yes, Aunt Inara."

"Hmmn."

Freya grinned. "That's settled, then."

"Can't I come?" Kaylee asked, her eyes bright with the prospect of being treated like a lady. "I could … I don't know, maybe keep an eye on things for you when you're sleepy."

"Not this time," Mal said. He went on quickly, seeing her face fall. "What if something needs fixing on Serenity?"

"She's running fine, Cap'n," Kaylee insisted. "I've done a lot of work on her while we were on Phoros, and those parts Leo got me on Jericho are better'n I could have bought otherwise. Even the entry couplings look good."

Mal gazed at her, seeing just how much she was still the bubbly girl he'd taken on that day, getting rid of the worst mechanic in the 'verse and replacing him with the best. "I don't know …"

"Why not?" Inara leaned her elbows elegantly on the table. "If we're going, I don't think it would be fair for Kaylee not to come."

"Well, seeing as she's got a babe in arms to deal with, and my ship, I kinda think –"

"I could do that," River said suddenly. "Look after David Gabriel, and fix anything that gets broken."

"Don't you wanna come?" Kaylee was starting to get excited again. "Be all girls together?"

"I've been on a cruise." River dropped her eyes, seeming to be very interested in the salt grains on her plate. "I wouldn't want to go again."

There was silence as they realised and remembered Jethro McCall, the young not-quite shepherd they'd taken on board. River had fallen for him, but when he died rescuing her and Inara …

"Sorry, _mei-mei,_" Kaylee said, her buoyancy pricked.

"Not your fault." River gave herself a visible shake, helped enormously by Jayne's hand on hers, and she looked up. "But I can stay behind."

Mal looked at Freya. "What do you think?"

She laughed. "I think it would be wonderful if Kaylee comes too."

The young woman in question squealed, deafening those either side of her and eliciting feedback from the baby monitor next to her plate.

"Wait a minute," Simon said. "Don't I get a vote in this?"

She turned to look at him, her limpid eyes on full. "You don't want me to go?"

"Well, no, I don't, but that's for purely selfish reasons. I'm not sure I could sleep if you're not next to me."

"Aw, that's real sweet, honey." She put her hand on his cheek, curving her palm around his jaw. "But it'd be fun. Oh, I know you've probably done all those things before, gone on cruises and the like, but this is probably the only time it's ever gonna happen to me. Do you really mind?"

Simon internalised the sigh, knowing she was doing the puppy-dog to the fullest of her abilities, and as always his objections crumbled under the onslaught. "No, of course not. You go with them, and have a good time." His heart warmed as he was suddenly on the receiving end of one of her brightest smiles. "It will give me time to bond with David. And Bethie and Hope will help, won't you?"

His oldest daughter looked up and swallowed quickly. "Of course, Daddy," she said, fragments of dumpling adhering to her teeth.

Hope just smiled, her fingers sketching an interstellar liner in her mind's eye.

"Seems to be settled, then," Mal said, rubbing his hands together. "We'll be picking you up on Persephone," he went on. "Got word from Badger of a job coming up, and it fits in nicely. So you ladies can have two weeks of luxury 'fore you have to start slummin' it again."

"You know they're gonna do nothing but talk about us, don't you?" Hank stage-whispered to Simon.

"I wouldn't be at all surprised."

"Day and night …" Hank shuddered. "Nothing's gonna be sacred."

Inara coughed again, this time to get everyone's attention. "There's one thing we haven't touched on. Whether Valentia and Phoebe mind us tagging along."

"They ain't goin' alone," Mal said firmly. "My mind's made up about that, at the least."

"No, I understand that. But it's quite different from having most of your aunts with you." She turned to the girls. "_Do_ you mind?"

Val and Phoebe looked at each other, the unspoken communication of twins passing between them, almost visible in the soft light.

Then Val nodded. "We'd be delighted if you could join us. And we will, of course, pay."

In all honesty they looked somewhat relieved, and it didn't take anyone being psychic to understand. Although their father had been something of a rascal, and their legal guardian (in the shape of Mal) not much better, they'd been loved and protected most of their lives, so to leave the home they'd known for the last few years and be totally alone was daunting, even if the fun they could have – aka the trouble they could get into – might be seriously curtailed.

"No." Mal spoke firmly, shaking his head. "No need to think about cashey money. We've been lucky lately, so there's some spare."

"I thought you didn't believe in luck?" Kaylee's happiness was back, and she was enjoying teasing him.

"No, well, I don't. But that don't mean we ain't got the wherewithal."

"And in all probability not enough," Inara pointed out. "The Empress is the flagship of the cruise line, and her prices correspondingly high. I can, of course, pay for myself, but –"

"No." This time it was Val being firm, and perhaps a little louder than strictly necessary. "_We_ will pay. We want to. You've taken us into your home, into your family. It's the very least we can do. Please."

Mal looked at Freya, an equally silent conversation going on. Finally he nodded slowly. "Okay. This once. But don't think I won't figure out a way to pay you back."

"You wouldn't be Uncle Mal if you didn't."

Mal grinned, then a shudder ran through him. "The six o' you … Gorram, but they don't know what's gonna hit 'em."

* * *

Freya was staring at her sparse wardrobe, fingering the dresses Dillon had bought her when she was pregnant with Jesse, seeing what might be suitable for a cruise, when footsteps on the ladder behind her made her smile. "So do you think you can cope without me for two weeks?" she asked quietly.

Mal crossed the small room and slid his arms around her waist. "No."

"You can have fun, all boys together." She laughed as she felt him shake his head.

"Believe me, that's the bit that's sticking," Mal admitted. "If River wasn't staying behind I'd seriously consider jumping ship and joining you."

She turned around in his embrace. "You always could. A few days, at least."

"I thought about it. But I've got my own ship to run, and we spend all our time in each other's pockets as it is."

"Can't wait to get rid of me, is that it?" she teased. "Fancy a taste of something new?"

"Absolutely. Got the advert ready to put out on the Cortex as we speak. Anyone wants to bunk with a handsome, roguish Firefly captain for two weeks should apply to –"

He couldn't finish as she'd stopped his mouth with a kiss.

"Idiot," she murmured as she let him breathe.

"That's _Captain_ idiot, if you don't mind." He chuckled. "Although truth is I still don't see why Kaylee has to go."

"Mal, I don't know if you've noticed, but Simon … well, he does a share, but I couldn't say it was 50 percent."

He pulled back enough so he could look into her hazel eyes. "You saying the boy's shirking his responsibilities?"

"Put your hackles down. And no. It's not that he doesn't want to, it's more that Kaylee won't let him. She takes David into the engine room with her, feeds him, bathes him … I just think it would be a good idea if she let Simon take more of an active role while she gets pampered."

"She's just had a month with her family getting just that."

"And within eight days she was back tinkering with Serenity."

"Something you put a stop to."

"Only the times I found out. The truth is she needs to get away, to be Kaylee again for a while, not Mrs Tam, or Serenity's engineer."

"Mechanic."

"Whatever." She pressed harder against him. "She carried that baby for nine months, then gave birth. I think she deserves it, don't you?"

"You trying to get around me with the puppy-dog eyes?" he asked, his warm toffee voice getting a little throatier. "Just like the rest of the women on board?"

"Zoe doesn't do them."

"No. She gets Hank to instead."

"That's ... entirely disturbing."

"Yeah, sorry about that. But it don't mean you're not doing them right now."

"Is it working?"

"Maybe." He kissed her, feeling her hands on his back, rubbing up and down his spine. When he finally surfaced, he looked into her face, slightly pinked across the cheeks. "Okay, woman. You've used your wiles, and I'll let her go."

"Good." She ran one hand down to his buttocks, squeezing gently. "Which is lucky," she added. "Seeing as Inara's already arranging the tickets."

He growled lightly. "So it's one of those fait accompli's."

"Pretty much."

He laughed again. "Anyway, what are you doing over here?" He glanced around their bunk. "Not that I mind, a'course, seeing as we're the only ones on board, but I figured you'd be taking advantage of that big bath before we went to bed."

She nodded over her shoulder into the cupboard. "Looking to see if any of my clothes are going to be okay for a cruise."

"And?"

"Basically, no."

"So what does that mean?"

"A trip into town, perhaps. Although I might wait until we get on board. There are supposed to be some wonderful shops in the arcades."

This time he groaned. "Meanin' our little nest egg is gonna be a whole lot smaller by the end of this."

"No. Not really. I'm sure we can make do, if you really feel –"

It was a moment or two later that he responded, on account of his mouth being pressed to hers, his tongue running across her lips. "Now you know that ain't the case. Like I told the girls, we've had some good luck, and I'm not gonna begrudge anyone spending a little on themselves. Long as it is only a little."

She smiled, her hands caressing his back. "Maybe a dress or two. We can't have Inara showing us up, can we?"

"Frey, darlin', if you didn't wear anything 'cept what you've got on now, I'm not going to fret." He glanced down at her serviceable tan pants and shirt. "You're beautiful, no matter what clothes are on your back."

"You always know the right thing to say."

"Had years of practice at getting it wrong. Maybe I've finally turned the corner."

"Maybe."

"And besides, I mean every word, _xin gan_." This time he only kissed the tip of her nose.

She sighed happily. "That's lovely."

"And I figured that if I said it right, I might be able to tempt you into bed."

This time she laughed. "You think so?"

"Mmn. And like I said, we're the only ones on board. We can do what we want, where we want."

"Really?" She hummed against him. "So I can run naked through the ship?"

"Well, if you really wanted to, I don't think I'd be stopping you."

"Hey, I'm not the only who'd be getting their losing their underwear."

"I think I could be persuaded to join you. Although seeing as I don't always wear any ..." He grinned, the one he kept just for her, the one that had her heart beating fast, and this time when he dipped his head, there were no words for a long time.

* * *

"Well?"

"It's her all right. Looks just like her picture."

"Can we grab her now?"

"No. She's not alone."

"But it's definitely that liner?"

"The Empress of Sihnon, yes."

"Good. You'd better go and –"

"Jarrett's getting the tickets now."

"There'll be an opportunity, somewhere along the route, or if not we can make it look like she was snatched by slavers. One way or the other, there's a good pay day in it for us."

"I don't like working for him, though, and it's not like we need the money."

"That's why I'm in charge and you're not. It'll serve us well in the long run. We'll get some good business connections out of it, as well as the cash. Just go and make sure your brother's not getting gypped. You know what he's like sometimes, especially if the cashier's a girl."

"Yes, Chester."


	7. Chapter 7

Beaumonde hadn't changed. It was still colourful, brash, noisy, smelly, dangerous … and Mal took a deep breath, enjoying every molecule. As much as he liked Lazarus, there was something about it that sometimes made him a little sad, something that probably reminded him of Shadow, of his home and lost family. Freya could usually win him around, make him laugh again, but there were times seeing the mountains, the plains, and it stirred too many memories. And the truth was this place was nothing like it, at least not around the port.

"You wanna call in on the twins whilst we're here?" Jayne asked, standing with him at the open cargo bay doors, looking out into the neon-coloured darkness.

"I doubt they'll talk to me."

"It's been a long time since those men came to kill 'em." He was talking about the time of Miranda, and the blood that had run down the Maidenhead's walls.

"And they still blame me."

"Fanty and Mingo weren't even there." Jayne growled. "Off in the mountains someplace, I heard."

"That didn't stop the attack."

"Not your fault."

Mal didn't answer. He really didn't want to get into the same old discussion over guilt and responsibility. That was, as he'd said to a certain preacher once, a train long gone. "Anyway, no need. That job from Badger? We pick up some crates on Aberdeen, drop 'em off on Santo and head to Persephone to get paid."

"What's the weasel into now?"

"Ore mining, apparently."

For a long, pleasurable moment Jayne entertained himself with a mental picture of Badger with a pick in his hand, swinging wildly at a rock face, but it slid away all too quickly, replaced by the usual feeling of hanging over a precipice when they dealt with the mini-tycoon. "So that's what we're carrying?" He glanced over his shoulder. "Serenity gonna be able to lift off with a hold fulla metal?"

"It's not much. Just some samples." Mal smiled. "It seems Badger doesn't trust the surveyors he hired."

"And he trusts us?"

"No. But we're trustworthily untrustable."

"Huh?" Jayne's brow furrowed.

"I know. But that's what he said."

"Nothing that's gonna blow up, I hope."

"We'll check before it even crosses the threshold. Hank can play with that new little toy of his." The pilot had spent some time rigging a small portable sensor, designed to pick up on the bits of grit that made living so pleasurable, like illicit explosive substances. "He'll like that."

"And if it works we'll never hear the end." Jayne sighed. "Sometimes I gotta wonder whether it's worth staying."

"My Jayne isn't thinking of leaving?" River murmured, having whispered up behind the two men and slipped her arms around her husband's waist. "I would be forced to break both your legs to stop you."

Mal tried to keep the grin from his face.

"Ya think you can?"

"Do you want to leave?"

"Nope. Just bashing my gums."

"Then we don't need to find out." She slid around under his arm. "Captain," she said formally to Mal.

"Albatross. They ready?"

"No."

"Figures."

River watched a man walk by the Firefly with a monkey on a chain. They were wearing matching waistcoats. "Zoe is complaining."

"She doesn't want to go?"

"She wants to wear her gun."

This time Mal had to smile. "She couldn't draw it anyhow, not with her shoulder the way it is." A chuckle rose up from his belly. "Besides, she knows they have scanners, doesn't she?"

"I've told her. So has Frey." River sighed. "She says she isn't leaving the ship unless she has something to kill people with."

"You think I should keep out of the way?"

"Probably a good idea." She snuggled into Jayne's chest.

"Only they ain't got that much time if they want to catch the liner."

"Kaylee is remonstrating with her, in between giving Simon copious notes on how to look after David."

"And I'm betting he's taking every one seriously."

"Mmn. At the moment she's telling him he has to take David into the engine room every day, so he can get used to it."

Mal laughed. "Since that boy's still happier with when we're planetside, that's probably a good one."

"Not that Zoe is listening."

Jayne shifted uncomfortably. "Oh, hell," the big man said. "I suppose I could …" He stopped.

"Could what?" Mal prompted.

"If you don't mind," River said cryptically.

"What?"

The psychic turned her dark pools of eyes on him. "Not talking to you. Talking to Jayne."

"Then someone tell me what you're talking about, 'fore I take it into my head I could do without my two best gunhands."

She giggled. "Empty threats," she said softly. "We know you."

Mal shook his head, sighing deeply. "Can't even threaten you anymore."

"Maybe on Thursdays. When there's an 'r' in the month."

Rolling his eyes, Mal turned to Jayne. "You gonna be any more understandable?"

The ex-mercenary was grinning. "Just hang on a sec." He disentangled River's arms from his waist and jogged across the bay floor, going up the metal staircase two at a time, his boots making the air ring.

"River?" Mal turned to the young woman at his side.

"Better call the others," she said firmly.

"You ordering me around on my own boat?"

"Yes."

"Today's Thursday."

She smiled brilliantly at him. "No 'r'."

Mal hid the grin and turned to the comm. instead. Pressing down on the button, he said, "Anyone liking to get off here had better be in the cargo bay, packed and pressed, in the next five minutes, else the liner'll be leaving without you." He let go and glanced at her as the echoes of his voice died away. "Okay?"

"Okay."

Jayne clattered back towards them, something in his hands. "Here," he said, holding it out.

Mal stared at it. "What the hell is it?"

"What does it look like?"

"A gun, but not like any I've seen before."

Jayne stroked it lovingly. "Yeah. Katie's pretty unique."

Mal shook his head at the man's insistence on naming all his weapons, and just studied the gun. It was about the size of an old-fashioned .38, if a little more bulbous at the stock end. It had a normal side loading magazine, adjustable sight, but it was the slightly golden tint, as if someone had polished it with watery sunshine, that caught the eye. Something stirred in Mal's brain, and his jaw dropped. "Wait. Is that … a Feldman?"

"It is," Jayne said proudly.

"Now I'm sure I ain't ever seen one before," Mal admitted.

The company of Feldman, Greenberg, Narcisso and Buck had been short-lived, but in the few years they were making weaponry had carved a name for themselves as innovative and daring. They been bought up, some might say inevitably, by Blue Sun some ten years previously, subsumed into the morass of Alliance-friendly firearms makers. Most of their pieces were in private collections or museums, so to find one in the hands of an ex-mercenary on a Rim-plying freighter was unusual, to say the least.

"Wanna take a look?" Jayne handed the gun over.

Mal tilted it first one way, then the other. "It's light. Lighter'n I'd've thought." He sited down the barrel, taking a bead on the stall a little way off selling wild birds in cages.

"Yeah. That's the alloy. Something about it being mixed with a certain type of plastic, throws off the sensors enough so it don't look like a gun." He grinned. "Don't stop it from being efficient, though."

"Can't help feeling it's likely to fall apart on me."

"Nope. Katie's built to last, despite her looks." Jayne took it back, admiring it anew. "I ain't really had a chance to use her professionally yet, seeing as being intimidatin' is my business, and that means having a lot of visible weaponry about my person," he explained. "But she's clean, and accurate, too."

"What about ammo?"

"Takes standard 9s, but in this case I've got a box of Dreg shells."

Mal's eyebrows went up. Dreg coating – or _diomorphic regenerated beryllium_, to give it its proper terminology – was expensive, and generally limited to high-end production items, rendering whatever was covered virtually invisible to any normal scanner. This also made it on the verge of illegal, particularly when applied to weaponry. "Okay, so who'd you steal it off?"

If Jayne could have blushed, he would have. As it was, his ears turned a delicate shade of pink, just on the tips. "Well, ya see, after our run-in with the Reavers, you were a long time coming back to Hera to pick me and River up, and we had to do something, so we kinda explored, came across their armoury ..." His voice died away, and when he spoke again he sounded belligerent. "Got a problem with that?"

"Not particularly." Mal shrugged. "In all honesty, I'd rather we had it than the New Browncoats, or the Alliance." He saw Jayne relax. "And I think Zoe wouldn't feel quite so naked if she had that with her. Thanks."

"Hey, no problem."

"But are you sure you don't mind? I mean, she must be worth a pretty penny."

Jayne shrugged. "Katie's a gun, and guns need to do what they're meant to."

"Fulfil the purpose they were created for," River breathed, then trembled as her thoughts were drawn to the Academy.

"Yeah," Jayne said, pulling her close, not needing to be a psychic to understand his wife. "And some of 'em are more than their parts."

For the second time in as many minutes Mal looked surprised. "You're philosophising? Okay, who are you, and where've you put the real Jayne?"

River wrinkled her nose at him, then patted her husband on the rear. "Go and give that to Zoe."

"'Kay." Jayne dipped his head and put a kiss on her lips before striding back for the stairs.

"How come he doesn't do what I tell him?" Mal wondered aloud.

"Because you don't lie naked next to him at night."

"Thanks, albatross. I really needed that mental image."

"You're welcome." This time she snuggled up close to him.

"You having one of those days?" he asked, putting his arm around her shoulders. "Needing to be close to folks?"

"Smell nice."

"I'm hoping you're meaning me and not this place." He nodded out towards the hustle and bustle.

"Mmn." She closed her eyes.

"I'm really starting to worry about the pair of you," came a voice from above and behind them.

Mal glanced over his shoulder and smiled at Freya coming down the stairs, a borrowed case of Inara's in her hand, wearing the dark purple dress Dillon had bought her. "And there I was thinking we'd been discreet," he joked.

"Not that discreet." She shook her head. "Just be glad Jayne isn't here, or I might be missing a husband."

"I'm fair sure I could talk him out of it," Mal said.

Laughing, Freya crossed the deck and stood the other side from River, speaking to her. "Maybe I'm feeling a little jealous. Knowing you're going to be the only woman on this ship for two weeks."

"Bethie will be here," River pointed out. "So will Hope."

"Woman, River. Not girl."

River peered around at her. "I'm not a girl anymore?"

"You're a wife and mother. I think that makes you a woman."

"Good." She let go of Mal and stood straight. "I'd better go and hurry the others up, then. In my womanly capacity." She skipped off.

Mal chuckled. "I think maybe you were wrong."

"Maybe."

"So where've you been?" he asked, sneaking his arm around her waist. "Thought maybe you'd decided to stay here with me instead of gallivanting around the 'verse."

"There was a wave from Dillon," she explained, taking a deep breath of his personal scent to ward off the odours of Beaumonde. Although she liked a good, smelly bar as much as her husband, some of those wafting towards her were not only unidentifiable, but made her stomach roll a little. "He's found someone he thinks might be suitable as a bodyguard."

"Shiny. We can look him over when the liner gets to Persephone."

"Actually, I'll be doing the looking. He's on Delphi, our next port of call."

Mal's eyebrows raised. "What's he doing there? It ain't like there's much to do on that planet."

"There's hot springs, waterfalls, all the wonders of nature."

"And no call for a gunhand."

"Oh, I imagine there's call for one of those pretty much everywhere." She sighed. "But apparently this particular one fell foul of his last employer and decided to jump ship."

"Not exactly a plus on his side."

"We don't know it was his fault."

"Still …"

"Well, I'll make sure." She tapped her temple. "He won't know. And if we don't like him, Dillon will have time to find someone else."

"Just be careful. Some folks don't like having their brains rummaged in."

"I will be."

He nodded, satisfied. "So what's this paragon of virtue's name?"

"Will Everett."

"Never heard of him."

"Which _is_ a plus, considering the company we keep sometimes."

"How do you figure that?"

"He must be inconspicuous."

"Long as he can fire a gun and hit what he's aiming at."

There was a thud followed by swearing behind them, and Hank and Simon manhandled a trunk almost as big as Jayne through the common area doorway.

"Did you have to pack the gorram kitchen sink?" the pilot wheezed. "I'm never gonna be able to straighten up."

"It's a cruise," Inara said soothingly, following them with a much smaller bag. "One never knows when one will be called upon to be stunning."

"Oh, ain't that the case," Hank teased. "I have the same trouble."

"Who knows, we might be invited to dine with the captain," Inara went on, patting his arm.

"You have been for a week," Simon pointed out, mentally enumerating all the aches and pains his body was complaining about, and wondering if he could prevail on River to give him a medicinal rub down with the high-power pain killing gel he kept hidden away. Then he pictured the look on her face, and decided he'd just have to do it himself.

Mal preened a little, but was deflated quickly enough as Inara said, "It's not the same. The captain of the Empress of Sihnon is … well, he's …" She stopped.

"Go on," Serenity's own captain said, amusement in his blue eyes. "What is he? And remembering I'm gonna be picking you up on Persephone."

She didn't let him intimidate her, though. "A gentleman," she shot back, her chin lifting in defiance.

"So what am I? Something you walked in on your shoe?"

Inara coloured, just a little, along the top of her cheekbones. "You have to admit, Serenity doesn't have quite the same cachet as the flagship of the line."

"I'd probably argue if I knew what you mean."

"You can play dumb all you want, Malcolm Reynolds." Inara looked down her nose at him. "We both know you understand."

"Stop it," Freya said mildly. "There's to be no fighting, or one of you won't be going anywhere."

"Why not?" Inara asked. "It's fun." She laughed. "It reminds me of old times."

"You mean those days when we were dancin' around each other and getting precisely nowhere," Mal observed.

"Exactly."

"Well, those days are precisely gone," Freya said, this time much more firmly, then made a show of looking around. "Where are the others? We really need to get going."

"I'm here," Kaylee said, stepping into the cargo bay, Bethie making a great show of humping a brightly coloured carpet bag over the lip.

"Heavy," the little girl huffed.

"Not overly," her mother said, taking it from her. "Ain't got that much, 'specially since Inara said I had to leave my pretty dress behind."

"You're not taking your layer cake?" Mal asked in surprise. "I was sure you'd manage it somehow."

"No room." Kaylee sighed.

"Wouldn't it fit in Inara's –"

"No," the ex-companion said quickly.

"It's okay." With a quick grin, Kaylee shrugged. "I know it ain't the kinda thing for a grand trip like this. And I don't wanna be showing anyone up."

"You'd never do that, _mei-mei_," Mal said gallantly.

The young woman glowed. "I love my captain."

"At least someone's got their priorities right."

"I can carry it." Zoe's voice carried from the top hatchway, swiftly followed by Jayne, then the woman in question.

"Nope. River'd skin me if she thought I was gonna let you," the big man said, carrying yet another of Inara's borrowed cases down towards the others.

"Quite right," his young wife said, stepping into the cargo bay from the lower door. "Messy."

"You can say that again, moonbrain." He grinned.

"And I've found the others," River went on, moving to one side like a magician's assistant, letting the Reilly twins enter.

Valentia smiled gently, but Phoebe dropped her bag unceremoniously onto the deck. She grinned widely. "Ready!" she announced loudly, and her sister rolled her eyes.

Inara shook her head. Perhaps they should make time for a refresher course in how to be a young lady.

* * *

The rented hovercar made the short trip to the bay where the Empress of Sihnon's shuttle was berthed, the liner herself far too big to land, and stewards in black and gold livery quickly took all the luggage and loaded it aboard. Only Jayne and River were absent, ostensibly to look after Serenity, but in all honesty more to keep out of the way.

Inara and the Reilly girls boarded, leaving the three families to say goodbye more privately. Despite the rush of last minute passengers, they were a little ocean of stillness, with the transfer shuttle – in itself larger than Serenity – towering over their heads.

"Have a good time, Mama," Ethan said, holding tightly to Jesse's hand. "Don't forget us."

Freya, down on her heels in front of them, pushed his hair back from his face. "How could I? You're my babies."

"Not a baby," Ethan admonished, but there was something very like a tear in his eye.

"Then you won't want presents when I get home."

"Well, pressies …" The thought seemed to cheer him up.

"I'll look after him, Auntie Frey," Bethie said, being all grown up and not gripping tightly to Kaylee's dress, but only by sheer force of will.

"Thank you, sweetie." Freya smiled for her then tugged her children into her arms.

Kaylee was still giving Simon instructions, her eyes flitting from his face to the baby in the sling around his chest. "… and make sure it ain't too hot."

"I'll be careful," he assured her.

Her forehead creased. "But what if he don't like that milk?"

"He's been fine on it for three days." They'd tested the formula on the way to Beaumonde, and although the little baby had made an odd face at first, he seemed to enjoy it after that. "It's got everything he needs in it until you get back. Besides, you expressed quite a bit, and if necessary I'll add some of that."

Mal winced, seeing Hank do the same.

Kaylee couldn't let it go, though. "It's just gonna feel … odd. Not feeding him."

Simon smiled. "That shot I gave you will stop your milk production, but as soon as you're home I'll reverse it. Don't worry."

"You know I'm gonna, no matter what you say."

"I know." He held her as tightly as a man carrying a baby could manage.

Hank was also holding onto Zoe, but with much less in the way of aggression, seeing as her arm was still in a sling. Simon had at least taken the strapping off, but it was going to be a while before she was capable of drawing and firing a gun with that hand.

"Do you have the therapy sheets?" he asked, looking into her dark face.

"In my bag."

"And you'll tell the doctor, soon as you get on board."

"Yes."

"And if he wants to know anything else, you get him to wave us."

She had to smile. "Hank, it's two weeks, not half a lifetime."

"I know but … it's not like we've been apart for that long before."

"Just imagine what it's going to be like when I get home."

The pilot flushed. "I am. That's the only reason I'm not bawling my eyes out."

Zoe laughed. "Hold onto that thought."

"Oh, it'll keep me warm at night."

Ben tugged on his mother's pants, she of all of them not giving in to wearing a dress. "Can I have pressies too?" he asked.

"I'll see what I can do," she promised, her fingers cupping his chin.

Meanwhile, Freya and Mal were taking a more personal goodbye.

"You need anything, anything at all, you just holler," he was saying, his hands on her shoulders.

"I will."

"And you make sure that captain knows you've only got the two weeks. If you ain't on Persephone when we land, we're gonna come and find you, and that could be messy."

"Okay."

"And …" He swallowed hard, pulling her to him instead of speaking, holding her as close as he could manage.

"I know," she whispered. "Me too."

"You talk to me. Every night. During the day too, if you've a mind," he murmured.

"You'll get fed up with me."

"Nope. Ain't done yet. I think it's gonna take more'n a couple of lifetimes for that to happen."

"Eight."

"What?"

"Eight. That's how many lifetimes we've already spent together, at least according to River."

He smiled a little. "Is that all?"

"I know. Not enough."

"Does that mean we're soul mates?"

"I think perhaps it does."

Zoe coughed discreetly. "I think they're wanting to leave," she said quietly, nodding towards the stewards waiting in the shuttle doorway.

"Right." Mal pushed Freya away enough so he could look into her eyes. "You be good. And if you can't be good …"

"Be careful?"

"Win."

She laughed. "Okay."

If their last kiss lasted longer than was seemly, nobody complained, and as they finally broke apart, Freya was slightly pink.

"Come on," Kaylee said, tugging her friend's hand. "Else I'm gonna start blubbering." And yet, despite her words, she paused by Simon. "You wear that beacon, okay? No matter where you are."

"I will," he promised, brushing her lips again. "I've got it right now."

"Good." She kissed their son's forehead, bent down to do the same to Bethie and Hope, then bruisingly once more against Simon's lips before running up the ramp and out of sight.

Zoe followed at a more stately pace.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Hank called. As she turned to look at him, he gave a sheepish grin. "Unless, you know, you want to."

"I won't," she promised, smiling for him before continuing inside the liner.

Hank, his face more than a little red, scooped Ben up onto his hip. "Come on, son," he said, his voice oddly raspy. "I've got to get us refuelled 'fore we can head to Aberdeen. Wanna help?"

"Yes, Daddy," the little boy agreed, and they strode away through the crowds, giving each other comfort as only a father and son could.

"_All ashore that's going ashore!"_ The voice boomed from the tannoy, using words from Earth-that-was.

"I have to go too," Freya said, running her fingers across Ethan's head. "But the time will fly by."

"Okay, _xin gan_." Mal kissed her lightly. "I love you."

"I love you too." With one last, slightly forced smile, Freya walked away, and as she disappeared the ramp slid back inside the hull, and the door closed.

"_Stand back!"_ the tannoy announced. _"Everybody stand back beyond the yellow line."_

They retreated quickly, and a few moments later the shuttle lifted from its mooring, dust and other detritus blowing in the downdraught created, engines bellowing. For a moment it seemed to hang above the dock, then span on its axis, raising its nose, and headed for the sky, gathering speed until it was only a dot against the blue. Then it was gone.

"Mama's coming back?" Jesse asked, her arms around her father's neck, still staring upwards.

"A'course she is, JJ." Mal smiled for her. "She's just having a bit of a holiday, is all."

"Without us?"

"We had ours. Back on Lazarus."

The little girl didn't look convinced.

"Tell you what, sweetheart," he said. "How 'bout we all go to an ice cream parlour I know about, pretty close by? It has real bananas." He suppressed the shudder that would have run through him. Somehow, he could never get enthusiastic over that particular fruit, although his daughter loved them.

Jesse's eyes lit up. "Real nananas?"

"With syrup."

"Me too?" Simon asked, eyeing his daughters, who were looking somewhat misty-eyed.

"I think maybe we can manage that."

"And me," Ethan put in, standing close to his father.

"What about Uncle Hank?" Bethie asked, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. "Don't want him and Ben to miss out. Or Auntie River and Uncle Jayne."

Mal smiled. "Then we'll get some and take it back with us, okay? Maybehaps they'll have a cold box so it won't melt."

"'Kay."

"Only no syrup on mine," Simon added. "I have to watch my waistline."

"Why, doc? Nobody else is," Mal quipped.

"At least I don't have love handles."

"You saying I'm fat?"

"Not where you could hear, no."

"Frey don't agree with you."

"She's married to you."

"So you're saying she has to?"

"I'm not saying anything …"

The idle bickering continued as Serenity's family pressed onwards towards the ice cream parlour, and the crowd surged closed again behind them.


	8. Chapter 8

Wow." Kaylee fell back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, painted a very dark blue with tiny gold stars scattered across it. "Wow."

Inara looked at Freya. "It seems our young mechanic here is lost for words."

"Or we broke her. Although I'm not surprised. I'm finding it hard to think of the right things to say myself." Freya grinned. "You okay, _mei-mei_?"

"Shiny." She sat up. "I mean, I've seen 'em before, a'course. These fancy liners. From a distance. But not up close like this. I'd no idea ..." She coloured, suddenly aware she might be making a fool of herself.

"It's okay," Inara said. "I felt pretty much the same way the first time I travelled on one."

"As a Companion?" Kaylee asked cheekily. "Was he handsome? Good in bed?"

Freya shook her head, but Inara laughed, a gentle tinkling sound like a mountain stream, explaining, "He was a she, and yes, she was good in bed."

Kaylee's eyes grew round. "Oooh." She shuffled forwards. "So? Come on. We need details."

"Kaylee." Freya glanced towards the main salon of their suite, where Valentia and Phoebe were discussing the upcoming programme of events.

"They ain't listening. And we can close the door."

"I don't know," Freya sighed. "You're not even away from your husband for a day, and you're already needing a cheap thrill."

"Oh, I wasn't cheap." Inara laughed again, this time at the expression on the younger woman's face. "Her name was Andra, she was from one of the wealthiest families on Sihnon, and she wanted someone to travel with for a month."

"Was she your first?" Kaylee kicked her shoes off to be more comfortable.

"As a fully-licensed Companion with a female client, yes. But of course the training I underwent meant I was fully experienced in matters like that."

Freya picked up the shoes and made a show of putting them in the closet.

"You wouldn't think anyone living with the Cap'n could still be a prude," Kaylee stage-whispered.

"He's just as bad," Inara responded at the same volume. "You've seen how he blushes."

"Only when he ain't wearing a shirt."

"True."

Freya coughed loudly. "Excuse me, but that's my husband you're talking about," she said pointedly. "And neither of you should be looking at him with no shirt on. You're both taken."

There was a moment's silence, then they all burst into laughter.

The last few hours had gone by in a blur, from the welcome party in the main ballroom, to the tour of the liner by their own personal steward. Happy to share, the Serenity women were pleasantly surprised to find that they had use of one of the larger of the suites on board, with five bedrooms on two levels. The Reilly girls said they'd take the double, explaining that as they'd be staying on board after Persephone they would take one each after that.

"I can't believe there's so much to do," Kaylee said at last. "I'm not sure I'm going to have time to miss Simon and the girls. And David, of course." She managed to say her son's name in an off-handed fashion, but the other women understood.

Inara sat on the edge of the bed and took the young woman's hand in hers. "You know they say absence makes the heart grow fonder."

"Oh, I ain't worried about that. But he's sure to've grown by the time I get back, and I don't want to miss anything."

"It's two weeks. Fourteen days. Perhaps less. And David isn't going to be shaving quite yet."

Kaylee giggled, just a little. "I know. I'm just being silly. It ain't like he's on his own."

"And you know River's going to spoil him."

"More worried about Bethie. You know what she's like about painting people."

Freya smiled, remembering the times she'd found Ethan with his face like a clown. "You're probably right."

At least Kaylee had cheered up from when they'd first stepped into the reception area on board the Empress, and she'd looked around at the people milling about.

"I'm gonna have to hide for the duration," she'd said in a whisper. "There ain't no way my clothes'll work here."

"Don't worry," Inara had assured her. "I brought extra, so there's sure to be something for everyone. And we can go on a shopping spree. There are supposed to be some wonderful boutiques on board."

"Oh, Frey said that. Only the Cap wasn't too happy about it."

"Kaylee, it's your money. And if you don't have enough, I can –"

"No!" She glanced around to see if her louder than anticipated interruption meant people were watching, but they all seemed to be going about their business. "No, 'Nara. If I ain't got the money, I can't buy it, simple as that. I ain't being beholden to anyone."

Inara sighed. "You know, Mal has been a bad influence on you."

"He's been a good one, and well you know it." Kaylee playfully slapped her friend's arm. "And it ain't just him. If my Pa found out I'd been borrowing money, he'd have a fit."

"All right," Inara promised. "I won't offer."

"Good."

_But I might just buy a few gifts_, the thought went through the older woman's head.

It was the sight of the ballroom, though, all glitter and soft lights, gold and glamour, that had really tilted her spirits up. That and the huge bed she was now sitting cross-legged on.

"I can't believe there's food twenty-four hours a day," Kaylee went on. "Good job Bethie ain't here. She'd never stop."

"That girl surely likes her food," Zoe said, coming into the room. "And talking of which, I believe we're due for a sitting down meal."

Kaylee bounced off the bed. "Oooh, I'd better shower and change." She looked at Inara. "You said you had something I could wear?"

Inara laughed. "I'll go and get it."

* * *

And now dinner was done, and the excitements of the day had caught up with the two Reilly girls at least, and everyone had decided an early night was a good idea.

"Breakfast at nine?" their steward, Warren, asked as he turned down the sheets.

"That would be fine," Inara said, the only one of them used to being treated in this fashion.

"May I suggest the lighter meal? Tea, toast, fruit, with perhaps cereal?"

"Perfect."

He smiled. "And tomorrow I would suggest you partake of the services on offer. They are an ideal way to unwind, to get into the rhythm of ship life."

"I'm sure you're right." Inara followed him to the door. "I myself intend to make full use of the aromatherapy suite."

"I will inform them you will be attending." He bowed slightly. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." As the door closed she leaned on it. "You know, I could get used to this."

"Me too." Kaylee flopped onto the sofa. "You know, if the rest of the trip is like this, I won't wanna go home."

"Really? So I can tell Simon he's been abandoned?"

"For a while." Kaylee laughed.

"Well, I'm to my bed." Inara stifled a small yawn. "If you intend staying up, there's plenty to watch on the Cortex."

"Just for a while. I don't want to miss anything," the young mechanic agreed. "Although I thought maybe Frey'd be up for a while longer."

"I think she might be conversing with Mal."

"Oh, you mean …" Kaylee tapped her temple.

"Mmn."

"That'd be kinda nice. You know, just to lie there and chat."

"I'm sure she'll pass on any messages to Simon you want."

This time Kaylee gave a tired giggle. "Not that kinda message."

"Then I'm sure Mal wouldn't mind if you sent it direct."

"No. No, that's okay. Don't want anything happening. You know, people who shouldn't knowing our business." She kicked off her shoes. "It's just different, you know? Back on Serenity, we just needed to walk a few steps to tell someone something, only now they're …"

"I know, _mei-mei_. But just think about tomorrow."

"Oh, I am." She snuggled into the cushions and picked up the Cortex remote. "I'll keep it down."

"Thank you. Well, goodnight."

"'Night, 'Nara."

The ex-Companion smiled as she walked to her bedroom, glancing back only once to see Kaylee flipping through the various channels, deciding finally on an old film that was about to start, before going inside and closing the door. It fit so well there was no sound from the sitting room. In fact, the whole ship seemed silent, despite the fact that she knew they were rushing through space towards Delphi.

Undressing quickly, she slid naked between the cool sheets, taking the silver combs out of her hair and laying them on the bedside table next to the capture frame. With only a moment's consideration, she slid her fingers over the controls, activating it so it scrolled through the images.

Val and Phoebe, Letitia and Rosemary, even Mr and Mrs Boden had been caught unawares. The children, of course, and the crew of Serenity, but mostly they were of Sam. She smiled as the one of him on his birthday appeared, wearing that really silly hat with ears the girls had made for him, and grinning widely. Who could have guessed he used to be a very successful therapist, numbering some of the Core's highest families amongst his clientele?

Sam had, of course, been in full agreement about Inara going with them.

"It will be good for you. I know you only agreed because Freya wore you down, but I think she's right."

She leaned against him, sitting in the ormolu chair and gazing into the dressing table mirror. He was brushing her hair, something he did when he needed to think. Some sort of displacement activity probably. "I'd rather stay with you."

"I know. But after …" His lips closed, thinned, as if he wasn't quite sure just what he could say.

"It's all right," she whispered. "And it wasn't as if it was a miscarriage."

"I know." He bent down and placed a kiss on the crown of her head. "Only a couple of weeks, but I thought …"

"So did I." She smiled. "But we have time. We both have time."

"I'm not sure that's true about me, my love."

She turned to look up at him. "You know as well as I do that men stay fertile for a lot longer than women. I've never understood the logic behind it, but it's a fact. Besides, Simon did those tests."

Sam had to smile. "I don't think I've ever been so embarrassed."

"Why? He's a doctor. It's perfectly natural."

"He's also Simon. I know him."

"He examined _me_."

"And don't think I'm not jealous about that."

She stood up, facing him, taking the distance between them to only a breath. "We can have children, Sam."

"I know."

"Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but there's no way I'm not going to be a mother again."

He traced the contours of her cheek with his fingers. "You are going to be so good. The way you look after the girls, the way you are with the other children … I can't wait."

"Neither can I." She walked into his embrace, feeling his arms around her.

"You are such an extraordinary woman." He sighed into her hair. "I love you so much."

Inara lay back on the pillows, watching the stars through the window as the Empress of Sihnon slipped silently onward. "I love you too, Sam," she whispered, keeping her eyes fixed on the capture images. "Goodnight."

* * *

Mal had deliberately taken the late watch, staring out into the black until he felt the tendrils of his wife's mind enter his. There was an increasing physical distance between them, but the only trace so far of that in her mental voice was a sort of breathiness that made his blood quicken.

"Everything okay?" he asked, letting the words fall into the stillness of the bridge.

_Shiny._ He could see her face, her smile. _We miss you._

"Miss you too, _xin gan_."

_You don't have to talk._

"I know. But it's like you're here. Next to me, instead of … there."

_Then I don't mind._

"You in bed?"

_Yes._

"You wearing one of those skimpy little nightgowns you bought?"

_Yes. The pale blue one._

"With the bows?"

_That's it. _

An image filled his mind and he shifted in the seat. "Might have to hold that thought 'til I'm back in our bunk."

_Longer than that._

"What do you mean?"

_Turn around._

He moved the seat so he could look towards the bridge entrance. Ethan stood in the doorway, his little pyjamas creased, his hair mussed.

"Hey, what're you doing up here?" Mal asked, holding out his arms.

Ethan ran to him and scrambled up onto his lap, his knitted toy alligator as always in his grasp. "Couldn't sleep."

"Missing your Mama?"

Ethan nodded. "You're talking to her."

Mal had to smile. "Guess I am. Do you want to?"

The nodding grew more frantic. "'Es."

There was a familiar feel like someone smiling at them.

_Ethan._

The little boy grinned. "Mama."

_Have you been a good boy for your Daddy?_

"Yes, Mama. We had ice cream."

_Did you? I hope you saved some for me._

"Next time, Mama."

They 'chatted' for a while, but it wasn't long before Mal could see Ethan was having to fight to keep his eyes open.

"Come on, big feller," he said, gathering his son to him. "Time for you to go back to bed."

_Mal?_

"It's okay, _xin gan_. Our little boy's just tuckered out."

The impression of a loving smile filled both their minds. _Then it's bedtime._

"Don't want to," Ethan grumbled. "S'ren'ty feels empty."

"Do you wanna sleep with me tonight?" Mal asked, then had to try hard not to laugh as his son nodded and yawned at the same time. "Okay then. Just this once."

Warmth washed over them. _Goodnight, my best boys._

"'Night, _zhang fu_."

"Mama gone?" Ethan asked sleepily, snuggling against his father.

Mal waited, but he was alone again. "I conjure she's gone to her temporary bed."

"Missing us."

"That she is."

Mal took one last look at the boards, but everything was quiet. Standing up carefully, he headed for his own bunk, Ethan wrapped around him.

It was only with the ease of long practice that he managed to make it down the ladder without breaking his or his son's neck, but what he saw when he reached the deck made him smile. Jesse had clambered into his and Freya's bed at some point, and now lay with her little hands fisted into her mother's pillow, fast asleep.

With infinite care Mal kicked off his boots, then moved the blanket to one side, sitting on the bed to make sure there was enough room for them all.

"Not undressed," Ethan mumbled, but he was to all intents and purposes already out like a light.

"I don't think your Momma's gonna mind that much," Mal whispered, laying down and settling his son onto his chest. "Not just this once."

* * *

"Madam, please."

"I want to walk. It's good for me."

"Then at least let me –"

"No. I don't need a … a babysitter."

"Madam, in your condition –"

"I'm not sick! Besides, my husband pays you very well to do what I say. I want to walk. On my own."

"Madam, please."

"Everyone's asleep. I hardly think I'm in any danger here, do you? And I can take care of myself."

"Madam …"

"And when I get back I'll require a pot of tea, and some of those almond biscuits."

There was a silence, then a sigh. "Yes, Madam Reynolds."


	9. Chapter 9

"Mal, Aberdeen's down below," Hank said over the com, and wasn't surprised to hear his captain's voice at his elbow.

"Coming up somewhat fast."

_Man must be catching being psychic_, the pilot thought, but said, "Not overly. And I still don't think this is a good idea."

"We need the work."

"Oh, I get that you think that. Not agreeing, seeing that we have some cash put by, but I know how you get when you don't have a job in hand."

"And how's that?" Mal was content to see just how much rope Hank would take.

"Grumpy." Hank glanced up, seeing the other man standing with his arms crossed. "Exacerbated by the fact that Frey's not here." He warmed to his theme. "Yeah, that's it. Captain Grumpy. Pretty much like when she makes you sleep on the couch. Although you've been better at that lately."

"You do realise Zoe ain't here to defend you, don't you?"

"Which is why I'm not saying anything to Jayne."

"You think he's worse?"

Hank chuckled. "Oh, come on, Mal. You're only likely to shoot me. Or toss me out the airlock. Jayne would tear my arm out of its socket and beat me to death with the wet end."

"True. But you'd still be dead."

"Nah." He shook his head. "I could talk you out of it."

"If'n I were you, I'm not sure I'd be putting that to the test."

"You love me really."

"Hmmn."

"And on that growl, I'm gonna stick my neck out even further. We don't want to be here." He gestured out at the planet as it filled the bridge windows, then adjusted their trajectory by a degree.

"Badger's paying us good money to transport his samples. And more'n that, after the business with those New Browncoats, I don't want anyone to get the idea we're hiding."

"No, I guess that would be bad," Hank said slowly. "Only maybe you'd like to explain it to me in simple language."

"Words of one syllable?"

"That would be preferable."

Mal lowered himself into the co-pilot's chair and stared at the dinosaurs still ranged on the console. "I ain't under any illusion, Hank. Maybe Quintana was working alone, but maybe he'd told others what he suspected about Simon being the key to breeding a new race of super-psychics. The Alliance've never stopped looking for him and his sister, no matter what happened after Miranda, and I'd be a fool if I didn't take that into consideration."

"Then surely hiding would be good."

"Except that would only signal to the fanatics among the New Browncoats that he was right, and we had Simon on board."

"That's crazy logic."

"I don't think I've ever said they were sane."

"No." Hank sighed, his hands flexing on the control yoke. "Guess not. So that's what we're doing? Hiding in plain sight?"

"Pretty much." Mal stood up as the ship began to shake, and had to grab at the back of the chair to keep his balance. "And I'd rather we got down in one piece to be able to keep doing it."

Hank grinned slightly maniacally as the muscles stood out on his arms. "I'll see what I can arrange."

* * *

The Dundee Correctional Facility was one of a string owned by private companies, catering for the dregs of the border worlds. The Alliance might make a show of wanting to rehabilitate, not penalise, but out here justice tended to be more of the 'out of sight, out of mind' variety. Capital punishment took care of the worst on the Rim, but those planets who were trying to be more civilised took advantage of the proliferation of family-run institutions, and the Alliance paid per head for each prisoner taken in. And, of course, if the owners thought they could turn an extra profit by encouraging the inmates to work for a pittance, nobody seemed to care much.

Hank brought Serenity gently to earth in the centre of the adjoining dock, the engine powering down until it was only purring, a light sprinkling of snow melting immediately it touched the entry-warmed hull.

Jayne, bristling as always with a selection of weaponry, glanced at River who was staring into nothingness. "You okay, moonbrain?" he asked.

She didn't seem to notice, standing in the middle of their shuttle, a coat unbuttoned over her normal pretty dress.

"Honey?" Jayne prompted, walking in front of her.

Her reverie broken, she looked up at him. "Jayne."

"Yeah, that's me. Least it was when I woke up this morning. You okay?"

River smiled. "Thinking."

"What about?"

"Masks."

"Masks." He made the statement sound like a question.

"The masks we all wear, so nobody can see inside us."

"O-kay." He waited, knowing she would make it plainer if she could.

"Pretending to be what we're not." She put her hand on his chest. "My big, bad Jayne, pretending to be something other than a marshmallow."

He bristled, but it was with a wry smile that he said, "I ain't a marshmallow."

"You are to me."

"Yeah, well, that's 'cause you got to me."

"Saw inside the mask."

He covered her slim hand with his own much larger one. "Riv, is there something going on we need to tell Mal about?"

Her nose scrunched up. "Not sure. Old faces, new names …" Her voice trailed away.

"River."

Her eyes focused on him again. "Not yet. We have to deal with this first." She quickly turned, picking up her rifle. "And I have to sort out the lessons for the children for tomorrow. Freya was very particular about them continuing to learn."

Jayne shook his head. If there was something he needed to be worried about, she'd tell him in plenty of time. This fuzziness of hers just meant she was having a bad day, and this he could handle. "Think I'm gonna be able to shoot anyone today? It's been a while, and I'm getting antsy."

She laughed, like her namesake running bubbling over a bed of pebbles, and it warmed him through. "That is my Jayne."

* * *

Mal had told the children in no uncertain terms that they were to stay in Bethie's room while they were down on the ground, the door locked from the inside.

"But I can help," the little girl insisted. "I can tell you if they're lying."

He had to smile. "You wanna take your Aunt River's job away from her?"

"No," Bethie admitted. "But –"

"No buts, short stub. And you've got a job, looking after all your siblings." He glanced at the other children. Ben and Hope were sitting on floor, leaning against the bed, together as always, his dark head next to her blonde one, giggling as they looked at pictures in one of the new books Kaylee had bought on Beaumonde. Jesse was lying on her front on the covers, Caleb next to her, tickling David Gabriel so he gurgled with laughter. Ethan, though, was standing next to Bethie, his blue eyes fixed on his father. Mal went on, "The both of you'll know if anything goes wrong, so you can make sure the others are safe, _dong mah_?"

Bethie sighed, but Ethan said, "Yes, Daddy."

"Not that I'm thinking anything's gonna go wrong, but we have to be careful."

Now he was wondering if maybe he'd not been careful enough. The cargo bay ramp was almost to the ground, and somehow he wished he was more surprised to see a dozen men with guns, all pointing at him. He shivered, and could only partly put that down to the cold air that swirled inside.

"Captain Reynolds?" A man stepped forward, very tall but on the skinny side, as if his height had grown up through his natural body. "I'm Neil Fogarty."

"Fogarty." Mal nodded towards the armed men. "Why all the guns?" he asked, trying to maintain an aura of unconcern, while feeling the lack of Zoe at his side, even though he knew Jayne was at his back and River was up on the catwalk.

"We had a break-out last night," Fogarty explained. "Half a dozen prisoners."

Mal's eyebrows raised. "And you think we've got them?"

"No. This is for your protection. In case they try to highjack you."

"Well, that's nice, but you're kinda pointing them at us."

"That's in case you're here to spring 'em."

"And exactly how would that have been arranged?"

"There are ways."

Mal half-smiled. "You mean you've got someone on the inside who was bought."

Fogarty looked pained. "It's been suggested."

"Then at least let me take that worry off your shoulders. We're here for the samples crate for Badger as arranged. That's all. We don't plan on taking on any passengers, welcome or otherwise. And my people are more than capable of repelling any borders."

Running his eyes over Jayne's imposing presence, and possibly counting the number of weapons he could see and multiplying it by the number he couldn't, Fogarty finally nodded. "Shiny." He indicated to his men that they should stand back.

"So how do you figure they got out?" Mal asked, curious, watching the guards step away, but noting the guns stayed visible.

Fogarty squirmed. "We almost had a Reaver attack a while back, and we armed some of the more trustworthy prisoners so they could at least fight for their own lives. The Reavers somehow passed us by, but ..."

"One of your prisoners wasn't as trustworthy as expected?"

"Someone managed to clone the armoury key. Why they waited until now to use it, I'm not sure. But some twenty or so made a break for the wall gate, shot some of my men."

Simon stepped through from the common area where he'd been listening. "You have injured?"

Mal silently damned his crew's propensity for eavesdropping. "I'm sure their own medic's taken care of –"

"You're a doctor?" Fogarty interrupted.

"I have some medical experience," Simon fudged.

"Ours quit, a month back. They keep promising to send us someone new, but so far we've seen squat."

"I'll get my bag." Simon hurried through the back.

Fogarty relaxed, just a micron. "I'd surely be grateful if he could patch them up."

"He'll do his best." Mal nodded out towards the squat, grey buildings, and the mountains ringing the world behind them. Snow might have fallen on the slopes, but it didn't improve the view all that much. "Odd time of year to be breakin' out, it seems to me. It's pretty inhospitable out there."

"I agree, even at the best of times." Fogarty nodded. "And the truth is, we're not too concerned with them getting all that far. Time comes, they'll be back, hungry and cold."

"You planning on lettin' 'em back in?"

"I'll probably consider it." He smiled. "Yeah, I'll be welcoming them with open arms. I hate having to fill in the paperwork."

"Just in case we see 'em, they all bad guys?"

"Captain, there's not a man incarcerated here who's a good guy."

"But I bet they all say they're innocent."

"I wouldn't be contradicting you. We just don't want them to be hitching a lift."

"Well, like I said, we're not planning on taking passengers this trip."

"Good to know." He straightened a little. "And in the meantime …" Fogarty beckoned outside, and a huge forklift truck trundled into view. "You'll be wanting your pick-up."

The truck moved forward, a large container, some ten feet wide by eight feet high, balanced on the supports.

Mal stared and put up his hand. "Whoa, there. What the hell is that?"

"The samples. There's another three still in –"

"No. We were told it was a small crate. Nothing more."

"It's what Badger asked for." Fogarty's lips twitched. "What, didn't he tell you we don't have the facilities for processing the raw materials?"

"No," Mal bit out.

"Well, it's a case of take it or leave it. It's up to you."

"How much does it weigh?"

"Well, let's put it like this. The thing's full of rocks. So what do you think?"

"I think I'm gonna be stringin' Badger up by his thumbs."

"Couldn't happen to a nicer feller."

Mal lifted an eyebrow. "You know him?"

"For my sins."

"You done something that bad?"

"You wouldn't have thought so." Fogarty smiled. "But if you manage to get a capture or two of Badger hanging by any of his extremities, I'd be grateful for a copy."

"I'll see what I can do." Mal glared at the truck still waiting at the bottom of the ramp. "Better load up 'fore I change my mind."

River, above them on the catwalk, stepped to the edge and lowered herself elegantly until her legs were over the edge. She laid her rifle across her knees, her hand still on the stock, close to the trigger, but her gaze was on the first of the crates. Something was tickling her mind, but so far she hadn't been able to get hold of it. Every time she tried, it was like smoke through her fingers, or perhaps photons of light through a window, or even sand through a sieve ... one way or the other, if she concentrated it just got worse.

She sighed. Jayne had been right. It was a bad day, and the collective mental energies of the men locked up in the prison just a few hundred yards away was like a wall of anger.

Perhaps that was it. They'd dug these rocks out of the ground with little in the way of technology, swinging picks and drilling holes. Only the worst of the vein was broken up using explosives, since nobody trusted the diggers. And if one or two of them died in the process from cave-ins, then who was around to complain?

She glanced at Fogarty, supervising the unloading. He was essentially a good man, if tarnished a little by the people around him. He was trying to do his best in a bad world, working for the owners who took every penny they could without thought or care for those left behind.

She saw Jayne look up at her.

_Moonbrain?_

She had to smile. It had become so much easier for him to initiate their mental conversations, without having to wait for her to make the connection.

_I'm all right._

_Be gone from here soon enough._

_My brother will want to stay longer._

_Mal won't. Me neither. Never did feel happy 'bout being this close to bars, even if I am standing on the outside this time._

_I'll keep you safe._

_You promise that? _Jayne gave a low growling chuckle, turning it into a cough when he saw Fogarty look at him strangely.

_I do._

_Guess I'm just antsy,_ Jayne admitted.

_Missing wives and friends._

The big man nodded slightly. _Got that right. Only I ain't never gonna admit it._

_Marshmallow._

"Ready," Simon said, hurrying out of the common area, his medical bag clutched tightly in his hand.

"Gibbons, see the young doc here gets to the infirmary, _dong mah_?" Fogarty said to a man who was almost as wide as he was tall.

Gibbons nodded, gesturing towards a doorway into the facility. Simon strode forward, wrapping his coat as tightly around him as he could and blinking snowflakes from his eyes. The guard followed, his massive girth making him waddle.

"Jayne, you go too," Mal ordered. "Don't let the doc out of your sight."

"You got it." The ex-mercenary jogged after the others.

Mal sighed as he stood back to watch the fork lift trundle slowly up into his cargo bay, wincing slightly as the ramp groaned beneath the weight. It would be just his luck if it bent something out of whack, and him with no mechanic to fix it.

The truck manoeuvred carefully, lowering the container almost lovingly, but at the last moment making the deck ring as it dropped the last inch.

"Be careful with my ship!" Mal protested.

River didn't hear. She was staring at the crate, wondering why it seemed quite so interesting.


	10. Chapter 10

"They were lucky," Simon said, closing the infirmary cupboard door. "One of them lost an eye, and given another day or two one of the others would probably have had to have his arm amputated, but hopefully they'll be fine until their replacement doctor gets there."

They'd taken off from Aberdeen just a short while before, Mal standing on the bridge while Hank flew, not exactly praying but hoping fervently that his Firefly was going to be able to handle the extra strain. It didn't help that, once they were out beyond atmo, his pilot had drawn a deep breath and wiped his hand melodramatically across his forehead.

"I know I'm going to hate asking this," he'd said, "but was it really that bad?"

"She's not happy," Hank admitted, both of them knowing he was referring to Serenity. "And without Kaylee to coddle her, well …"

Mal shook his head. "I knew I shouldn't'a let her go on that hayride."

"I didn't mean it like that. Just that we've got to be careful. Can't get up to anything like full burn with the load she's carrying in her belly, but that don't mean we have to crawl either."

"Are we going to make it to Persephone on time?"

"Should do. And even if we're late, the girls can take up residence with Dillon and Breed."

"Except I wanna check over that bodyguard they're supposed to be picking up myself."

Hank twisted in the chair enough so he could see his captain. "You don't trust Freya's judgement?"

"A'course I do," Mal said quickly. "And don't you go suggesting anything to the contrary. I just wanna make sure he ain't the kind of feller's gonna take advantage of the twins when they're on their own."

With a quick smile Hank said, "Frey's right. You're just like a mother hen, pulling her chicks under her wings."

Mal had quashed the temptation to shoot his pilot, on the grounds that it would mean having to tell Zoe later, and instead just growled and walked away, heading for the infirmary.

Now he watched as Simon tidied up.

"Wouldn't be holding your breath about that," Mal advised, leaning companionably against the counter and talking on the subject of replacement doctors for the Dundee facility. "My recollection of places like that is, if you can save a few credits, you do it."

Simon turned. "You mean the owners will try and make do without one?"

Shrugging, Mal explained, "Rich people, Simon. And for the most part, they want to stay that way."

"That's barbaric."

"If they're really lucky, maybe they'll get a medical man come up in the next dump of prisoners. Even if it's just someone with a little experience would help." His lips twitched. "A'course, there's always the possibility that such a person might have used that same experience to help a victim or two into the sweet bye and bye, but then, you can't have everything."

Simon gazed at him. "You always see the glass as half full," he dead-panned.

"Have to. Otherwise you go plumb stir crazy out here in the black."

"I think it's probably too late to worry." He shook his head. "So how often were you a guest of such places?"

"More times'n I'd care to count when I first bought Serenity. Mostly waiting for someone to make up their minds if I was guilty or not, but it didn't make much difference to the way I was treated. 'Sides, they ain't that much different to the camps after the war. Zoe, Frey and me ... well, we've had our share of experiences. Hell, some of 'em _are_ the old camps, just tided up a mite."

Simon was faintly surprised. Not one of the three had talked much about their time as prisoners, and he wondered whether he could get Mal to open up a little, but the look in the older man's eye made him decide to use caution. "I didn't see any women in Dundee."

"You wouldn't."

"But I thought most Alliance prisons catered for both sexes. Equality and all that."

"Maybe on the more civilised worlds. Out here? Not so much. It causes more problems than it ever solves, seeing as the guards aren't exactly the most honourable either. And they ain't looking to make a man fit to return to society, so much as making it plain what would happen to him if he came back to prison."

"And yet there is such a widespread lowlife criminal element."

"I hope you ain't including us in that there generalisation."

"As if I would."

"As if you wouldn't. And I'd have to take umbrage at you calling us lowlife. We're a superior kind'a criminal." He smiled briefly. "And yeah, you're right too. About there being a chronic lack of law-abiding folk in some places. But that's pretty much how you have to survive out in the Borders."

"Oh, I know." Simon glanced at the various bits of equipment that had once graced hospitals, medical facilities, warehouses ... "And don't think I'm not grateful."

"I know you are." Mal dropped his hand on the younger man's shoulder. "But gratitude don't come into it. Family does."

Simon nodded. "Yes. Family."

"Well, I've got other things to be getting on with," Mal said, straightening up and hitching his thumbs into his suspenders.

"Captainy things?"

"Them too." He grinned and started to leave.

"Mal." Simon's voice stopped the captain in mid-step over the infirmary threshold.

He turned back. "Yeah?"

The young man looked slightly diffident. "I know perhaps I'm being paranoid, but ... those crates. Did you check them?"

"Check 'em?"

"For the prisoners. As I said, I know it could be paranoia, but a break-out just before we got here ... don't you think that's just a little suspicious?"

Mal's lips twitched as he tried hard not to smile. "You know, I'm wondering if we've been a bad influence on you. Used to be you saw something of the good side in people, pretty much like Kaylee does. Yet here you are, thinking the worst."

"It must be the experience of living with you."

This time a quick flash of a smile darted over Mal's face. "I'd be grateful if you could rephrase that, else Freya could get a mite jealous."

"And I always thought it was Freya and me that you were worried about."

Mal coughed, only to clear his throat, of course. "Maybe once on a long time ago," he conceded. "But that don't help none with your feelings of being watched."

"Not watched. Just ... wondering."

Mal knew he could keep this up almost indefinitely, and it was still fun sometimes to see the good doctor squirm on the hook, but for the most part he kept that for special occasions. Now he said, "Well, to ease this 'wondering' of yours, you can stop fretting. We took a look, made Fogarty open up each of the crates before you got back." He reached into his pocket, tugging something from inside. "Here. A present for you."

"Maybe it's Freya who should be worried if you're giving me gifts," Simon said dryly.

"You ain't my type."

"Who is?"

"Jayne, a'course."

Simon nodded. "I should have known."

"Long as you don't go crying yourself to sleep tonight over being rejected."

"I'll try not to."

Mal smirked, then tossed the object in his hand towards the young doctor. "Here."

Simon caught it easily. "What is it?"

"From one of the crates. I'd take it as a kindness if you'd check it out, scan it, make sure there ain't anything nasty waiting to jump out at us."

Simon turned the small lump of rock over in his fingers. It was darker than he expected, and heavier, with an odd purple haze running in a line down the centre. "Didn't Fogarty?"

"Yeah. He scanned it while we were waiting, said there's nothing radioactive about it. But as much as I'd like to believe him, I'm pretty much of the opinion if you want something doing, do it yourself. If'n you're trustworthy."

"And you think I am."

"Closest I've got, doc."

"Thanks. I think."

Mal laughed, just a little. "Make sure we ain't gonna grow three heads or something, that's all. I ain't above dumping it in deep space if we need to."

"Won't Badger mind that?"

"What Badger does or doesn't mind ain't anywhere near high on the list of my priorities. Keeping me and mine safe is right at the top."

Simon had to smile. "I'll check it out right away."

"I'd be obliged."

* * *

Jayne had cooked, which meant slabs of pre-marinated meat from the stores they had left over from Lazarus, griddled to perfection. If there was one thing the big man knew about, it was how to cook steak, and the scent had the entire crew – or what remained of it – sat ready around the table even before he needed to call.

River placed a large bowlful of reconstituted potato in the middle of the old wood, a platter of bread next to it, before taking her seat.

"_Mei-mei_, are you okay?" Simon asked, eyeing his sister even as his little finger was being chomped on by his son in the sling across his chest.

"Shiny," the young woman said, flashing him a smile.

"Only you look ... distracted."

Caleb, who had inherited the high chair in his turn, tossed his spoon onto the floor and laughed.

River bent down to pick it up, staring at her reflection in the bowl. _All out of proportion_, she thought. _Seeing not what is, but what might never be_.

"_Mei-mei_?" Simon prompted.

She dragged herself out of her contemplation, realising everyone was looking at her. "I'm fine," she said. "Tired, perhaps."

"Well, an early night ain't gonna do you any harm," Mal said. "It's probably being the only female type person cooped up with all these fine examples of masculinity that's the problem."

Bethie looked affronted, about to speak, when Jayne put the dish of meat on the table.

"Go ahead," he said. "Dig in."

Picking up the platter, Mal slid a thick slice onto his plate before passing it along. "Albatross, I'm figuring it's one of those days?" he asked kindly.

She nodded. "Something in the air," she agreed. "No more medications required, but sometimes things get woolly." She sighed. "It's the menstrual time of the month."

Mal looked pained. "Not when we're about to eat, River. And actually, not ever."

She grinned suddenly. "Aye aye, captain."

She couldn't be too bad if she was winding him up, Mal considered. He looked further down the table. "Simon, did you get that scan done?"

The young doctor nodded, attempting to stop Bethie from taking far too much food, at the same time as ensuring Hope's meat was cut small enough so she wouldn't choke. "Yes. There's nothing radioactive in it, at least nothing above normal background level. From what I can tell, there's certainly Herschelium in the sample, but there's no way of knowing what standard until it's processed."

First found on Herschel, the lone moon of Ezra, Herschelium was a prized ore used in body armour, its colour, in fact, giving the Alliance soldiers their nickname of _purplebellies_. In sufficient strength and quality, it made almost any metal bulletproof, and if thick enough could stop a laser from penetrating.

"Damn stuff," Jayne muttered, spearing a steak for himself and one for River. "Half the men on Ezra got damplung trying to dig the stuff out."

Mal nodded, knowing that a rich vein had been found on the ex-mercenary's home planet. Jayne's brother had been one of those afflicted, and it was only Simon's medical skills that had saved him from an early grave. Now, though, he had a wife, step-children, and one of his own on the way. "How are Matty and Jolene?" Mal asked, allowing himself to be side-tracked for a moment. "Must be almost her time."

"Bar a month," Jayne said, brightening a little. "Kinda like to drop by and see 'em when the baby's born."

"We'll see what we can arrange."

"God, I'd forgotten," Hank said, shaking his head. "Another Cobb in the 'verse. I'm not sure it can cope."

"If the food weren't likely to spoil," Jayne said, pointing at the pilot with his knife, "I'd take you down into the cargo bay and –"

"Jayne." River put her hand on his.

"Just saying."

"This is too good to waste," his wife said, picking up a sliver of perfectly cooked steak and putting it into her mouth, chewing delicately.

Jayne watched the operation, running his tongue across his own lips as a tiny drop of juice appeared on River's.

"Stop it," Mal said mildly. "The pair of you."

Hank grinned. "Cap."

"Anyways, I'm just glad there's nothing in those crates gonna come and bite us in the ass," Serenity's captain said. "Could do with a nice, languorous journey," he added, not seeing River's foot twitch under the table.

* * *

It was the wee small hours of the morning, at least as far as the ship's clocks were concerned, and the lights were turned low accordingly.

Not that she needed light. It could be as black as pitch – or anything else without colour – and she'd still know exactly where she was. Sometimes she wondered if she really was the physical manifestation of Serenity, as she'd once pretended when a bounty hunter had boarded her, but that was really something of a stupid suggestion. Of course she was part of the Firefly, as were the rest of the crew. The heart and soul of the ship. Which was why she knew something wasn't right.

River stepped silently onto the catwalk outside the shuttle, pausing only a moment to check Jayne hadn't stirred. He'd rolled into her spot when she'd got up, grabbing her pillow and tugging it underneath him, but at the moment his dreams were untroubled.

Unlike hers. She stared down at the huge crates, then drifted down the metal staircase, barely touching the treads and ignoring the chill in her bare feet.

Ignoring the ladder Mal had placed against the side so he could look into the interior through the top hatch, she touched the first container, her fingers running across the pitted metal, reading its life like Braille. Indecision flitted across her face, a thousand outcomes running in full colour through her mind, none of which were more likely than the other. Except that she might be mistaken.

She shook her head and swept her hands over the side panel.

There. Just there. Press, slide and ...

The panel fell away, several lumps of rock thudding to the deck and setting up a reverberation that twitched from one side of the cargo bay to the other.

Up in the shuttle, Jayne's eyes slammed open. "Moonbrain?" he whispered.

River stared at the hollow revealed, at the figure sitting on a stool, dressed in grey shirt and pants, a heavy grey blanket around his shoulders. A mask covered his face, leading down to a gas bottle on the floor, a dozen emergency ration packs by his booted feet.

He wasn't moving.

River stepped closer, intrigued.

A hand shot out, grabbed her throat, pulling her around. An unseen gun pressed against her temple.

"You just stay right there, girlie," a rough voice breathed into her ear.

Above them, Jayne swore softly under his breath and stepped as quietly as possible back into the shuttle, grabbing Betsey before jamming his hand on the com button. "Mal!" he whispered urgently. "We got company!"


	11. Chapter 11

By the time Mal got to the cargo bay, dressed only in a hastily donned pair of black sleep pants and carrying his gun, Jayne had Betsey trained on the man using River as a shield. He could see panels were open on three of the four containers, and rubble was strewn across the floor, but Mal was more concerned that there were at least four other men in positions ready to fire amongst the cages.

"_Gos se_," he breathed, a little piece of him thankful that Jayne hadn't picked up Vera instead. A hull breach would be all they needed.

"You'll be wanting to drop that gun, Captain," the man standing behind River said, his own weapon not half an inch from her cheek. "Unless you'd like this little lady here to meet her maker."

Cursing the fact that Zoe and Frey were otherwise engaged, Mal spoke quietly to Jayne. "Think we can take 'em?"

"Yeah. But not 'fore they hurt moonbrain."

"It's all right, Jayne," the young woman in question said. "They won't hurt me."

There was a snigger from someone on hearing the big man's name, but the leader pushed his gun harder into River's face. "Wouldn't be too sure about that."

A sound below indicated Simon was standing in the common area doorway. "River …"

"Don't," Mal said warningly, only taking a glance to see the doctor was armed.

"It's my sister," Simon pointed out, his natural calmness taking over.

"I know that." Mal felt rather than heard Hank arrive behind him, out of breath from anxiety rather than running. "Just don't do anything stupid. Least, not 'til I say."

"I'll try not to."

"Come on, Coombs," one of the other men called. "Let's get this done."

"You try anything and you'll be the first with a bullet in your head," Jayne warned.

_Albatross?_ Mal thought. _You okay?_

_Shiny. And I'm sorry._

_What for?_

_Letting them out._

_I'm figuring they were planning on taking over the ship anyway._

_Yes, but I'm still sorry._

_Not your fault._

River gave a half smile. _Or yours._

His lips twitched. _Have to see about that. Can you deal with the one holding you?_

_Yes. But there is a seventy-eight percent chance one of the others might shoot you as well._

_Then we'll try the old-fashioned way first._

No-one else was aware of the conversation, and Coombs spoke again. "Try it."

Mal felt himself settle, not taking his eyes off the other man but being fully aware of where everyone else was in the cargo bay. "Nobody's shooting anyone, least not yet." He put his gun carefully down onto the catwalk.

"Mal?" Jayne asked, his gaze not wavering.

"We got time." Mal started down the stairs.

"Whoa, where are you going?" Coombs asked, backing up and taking River with him.

"Just feel like we shouldn't be shouting, not at a time like this." He reached the bay floor, feeling the cold metal beneath his naked feet. "See? Ain't that more friendly?"

"That's close enough."

"Fine by me." Mal wanted to hitch his thumbs in his gunbelt or suspenders, but since he wasn't wearing either of them he had to content himself with clasping his hands lightly in the small of his back. He studied the man in front of him. He was young, no older than River, and only slightly taller, his chin-cropped dark hair in need of a wash. His face, though, showed an aggression that came from hard living, and a willingness to do whatever he thought was needed. "Coombs, is it?"

"Yeah."

"You got a first name?"

Coombs smiled slightly. "Why do you care?"

"I don't. Just making conversation."

"Sebastian," River piped up, standing quietly in the man's grip.

Mal's eyebrows raised. "Really?"

Coombs jaw dropped. "How did she …" He looked down at the young woman. "How did you know that?"

"She's a good guesser," Mal responded. "And no wonder you don't like telling anyone."

A redness dappled Coombs' cheeks. "Old family name."

"Must be why you went into crime."

"And what's your excuse?" Coombs asked viciously, attempting to get his own back, his gun barrel scraping River's face.

Mal shrugged, for the moment ignoring the faint trace of blood he could see. "Circumstances."

"That covers a multitude of sins."

"Yeah, I guess it does. So what're yours?"

"Nosy, ain't you?"

"One of my failings."

"Well, since you ain't gonna be telling anyone … I got pissed at someone."

"And you killed 'em."

"Might have."

Mal had to smile. "And I'm figuring someone took exception."

"Yeah. They had family."

"So've I."

"What the hell are you doing?" One of the other men had spoken. "We're wasting time!"

Coombs nodded slowly. "Have to agree with that." He tightened his grip on River's arm. "You're going to do what I say."

"Look, son –" Mal began.

"I'm not your son!"

"No, I can plainly see that. Mainly because I don't think my boy would do something quite so crazy."

"I'm not crazy. And I'll shoot her if you come any closer."

Mal dropped his hands to his sides, palms open. "Now that really would be plumb loco, don't you think? You kill her, you've got no bargaining tool left. And that's beside the fact that Jayne here'd take you apart for it. See, I really don't think you've thought this through."

"There are six of us," Coombs pointed out. "All armed."

"Sure you are. But again, you get maybe one shot each before one of us gets you. Now, I'd surely hate to be one of those as gets hit, but you'll still end up dead."

"You don't think we have the advantage?"

Mal had to laugh. "In numbers maybe. But it's my ship."

"I see just the two of you who've any kind of comfortableness with this situation, and you left your gun up top." Coombs was starting to relax, thinking he had everything under control. "The other pair look like they're gonna puke rather than fight."

"Maybe I'd've agreed with you once," Mal said. "Not now. The doc back there might be better at taking out bullets than puttin' 'em in, but he's got to be a pretty good shot. And Hank's crazy."

"That's right," the pilot agreed, his voice under admirable control. "Insane."

Coombs looked disinterested. "Not sure I care. We'll still do what we were gonna do, and you're still gonna end up tossed with the crap into space."

"So was that the plan?" Mal asked. "You wait 'til we're asleep, then you kill us in our beds?"

"It was an option."

"Were there others?"

"Pretty much no."

"You really should have some kinda back-up. I mean, here we are, all awake, and at something of an impasse."

"Not really. We still outnumber you."

"Yeah, but that's Jayne's wife you've got hold of, and you harm even a hair of her head you're gonna wish you'd faced down a whole pack of Reavers instead of us."

"You think?"

"I know."

For the first time just a hint of uncertainty crossed the man's face. "Then maybe we ought to kill him first."

"You really want to reconsider."

"Why?"

"Because I'd kinda like to know if Badger set this up 'fore we find it hard to ask your lifeless bodies."

"Badger?"

"Little weasel of a man. Fancies himself the kingpin of Persephone."

"King turd if you ask me," Jayne muttered, his gun not moving an inch.

"Never heard of him."

"So who was it?"

"No idea. A third party. We got word you were coming in, and there's a couple of guards more than happy to make sure we got on board safe." He smiled humourlessly. "You pay enough, someone's gonna take the prize, no matter what it is. Even you."

"Nope. Even when we're down to our last ration pack, there're some things I don't do."

"No?"

Mal felt the thousand and one things he'd done when desperate prick his mind, but he knew he still had some morals, bent and possibly twisted as they were. Especially now, with a family … "Maybe I'd be tempted," he said honestly. "A man has to do things he don't like to survive sometimes, but that doesn't mean he enjoys them." _Except I think maybe you do_, he added silently.

"See? We're alike."

"Then maybe as kindred spirits you ought to consider putting down your guns, and we can discuss things in a more comfortable situation. I got a bottle of sake somewhere, and we can talk about letting you off someplace."

"And I think my first idea was the right one." Coombs didn't even glance at his men, but there was a change in the atmosphere.

This was it. Mal knew even before the weapons trained on them lifted. He reached out, knowing Jayne was kicking his gun over the edge, and he caught it before it hit the decking. He twisted in mid-air to land rolling, aiming and firing in one smooth motion, hitting one of the interlopers in the throat, blood spattering over the nearest container.

Coombs ducked down, dragging River with him, his finger automatically pulling on the trigger.

Someone cried out, and for a moment Mal thought it was one of his, then the smell of cordite filled the bay as everyone opened up, the echoes bouncing back off the walls and deafening him, but not enough so that he didn't hear River's cry.

"Simon!"

Half-sheltering behind a crate, Mal could only watch, unable to help, just keeping the convicts' heads down as Jayne ran around the catwalk to get a better shot, his accuracy accounting for three others before Serenity's captain could even take a breath.

Not that it stopped River. She somehow shimmied out from Coombs grasp, kicking at the same time. His knee cracked. If anything, the man was too shocked to scream, which was fortunate, since it meant the roundhouse she delivered to his jaw didn't split his tongue in two.

One of the other prisoners peeked around the cage he was hiding behind, and Mal took advantage, his bullet unerringly finding the man's chest. He dropped like a stone.

Another fell, not so quiet this time, victim to a bullet from Hank. He rolled on the bay floor, his hands clasped to his belly, shrieking in pain.

That left Coombs, staggering back away from River, chest heaving, trying to keep his balance with only one good leg and bring his gun to bear at the same time.

"You shot him," she whispered, unheard. Ice glittered in her eyes, and she pivoted on one foot, her free leg whipping around behind her. Her foot connected solidly with the side of his head, and the snap of his neck was very loud. A look of confusion crossed his face, just for a split, then he pitched forward, dead before he hit the deck.

Mal stood up slowly, ready to shoot again if necessary, but only the screamer was still alive.

Jayne strode down the stairs, but Mal was already there. Just a glance at the blood and slippery pink flesh protruding through the man's fingers was enough, that and the look in his eyes, and the captain leaned forward, cocking his gun. The single gunshot was shockingly loud.

"Simon?" River ran to her brother, going down onto her knees without thought for herself, ignoring the coup de grace behind her.

"Are you okay?" Simon managed to ask, trying to focus on his sister from inside the pain of the bullet in his leg, seeing her cheek bleeding slightly.

"Me?" River's eyes filled with tears. "You're asking _me_?"

"I figure he's okay," Mal said, coming up behind them. "Only Simon'd ask if someone else was all right while he's bleeding to death."

River shot a glare over her shoulder. "Not bleeding to death."

"Well, no, maybe not," Mal backpedalled. "But I'm sure he'd like something of a painkiller 'fore one of us starts digging around for the bullet."

If anything Simon went even whiter, but he managed to say, between gasps, "I might have been able to save him, you know."

"Who, him?" Mal glanced at the body he'd ended. He shook his head. "Nope, doc. Not where he was shot. Looked like it hit a rib at the back, bounced around some and mulched his insides. No way back from that, not even with you to look after him. And you ain't in the best of health."

"Mal's right," Jayne confirmed. "Guy would've taken a while, but he'd've ended up dead, and not pleasant either. It was a piece of mercy."

Hank swallowed hard, his face almost as pale as the young doctor's, but he managed to say, "Hadn't we better get Simon to the infirmary?"

"Prob'ly a good idea," Mal agreed.

"I'd be grateful," the patient muttered, sweat on his brow and a greyness around his eyes.

"Jayne." River's voice was low, but her meaning was clear.

"Sure, moonbrain." In a moment the big man had swung Simon into his arms, his muscles barely straining as he stepped through into the common area, River fluttering behind.

"Mal." Hank stopped the captain from following with a hand on his arm. "What about ... what about them?" He glanced at the bodies, tasting bile in his throat.

Looking at the pilot Mal felt a tug of understanding. Hank had never killed easily, and knowing his bullet had done what it had was likely to affect the man for a while. It was one of the reasons Zoe loved him.

"Well, I guess we'll have to tell Fogarty we found his prisoners," Mal said, going to push his gun into his holster then realising at the last moment that he wasn't exactly fully dressed. "You'd better get to the bridge, let 'em know at Dundee, see if he wants us to bring back the bodies."

Hank nodded gratefully. "I can do that." He hurried up the stairs, wanting to be away from the smell of blood and cordite, and feeling guilty for it.

* * *

"Dump 'em." Fogarty's face was clear on the vidscreen.

It was an hour later, Simon was resting comfortably after having the bullet extracted from his thigh and enduring Jayne's jokes about it being the same leg as the time the bounty hunter had got on board.

"Pretty much in the same place too, doc," the big man had teased. "What, didn't you want to sully up your lily-white skin with another scar?"

Simon, feeling more than a little light-headed from the local anaesthetic, had sworn at his brother-in-law, which had only made Jayne laugh the louder.

Mal, by virtue of having had battlefield experience of taking more bullets out than Jayne, had ignored the banter as much as he could, concentrating on using the probe to remove the slug and allowing River to wipe his forehead periodically.

His leg finally trussed and elevated, Simon lay back on the infirmary bed and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Daddy?"

He lifted his head enough to see his two daughters standing side by side in the doorway, holding hands tightly. "Hey. You should be in bed."

"Hope wanted to see you," Bethie explained, as if it was all her sister's idea. "Make sure you were okay."

"I'm fine, pumpkin." Simon smiled. "Daddy's just going to be sore for a few days."

"Good," Hope said quietly, her eyes suspiciously moist.

River dropped the last of the soiled swabs into the medical waste bin and turned to look at her nieces. "You hid. Which was the right thing to do."

"S'what we always do," Bethie said simply. "Fiddler wanted to come out and bite 'em, but I said no."

Simon struggled to get more upright, leaning on his elbows and ignoring the throbbing in his thigh. "You haven't gone into the cargo bay, have you?" he asked seriously.

"No, Daddy." Bethie shook her head hard. "Don't want to."

"Hey, what are you two doing up?" Mal asked, coming up behind them and putting his hands on their shoulders. He'd gone to put on a shirt and his pants, and hadn't been surprised to find Ethan in with Jesse, looking after her like a big brother should, rolled up together in her small bed with Maoli asleep around their feet. Mal could still feel the warmth that had flooded through him at the sight, filling the empty hollow in his gut caused by having to kill.

"Checking on Daddy," Bethie explained.

"Well, you can see he's okay, so back to bed."

"Can't we stay here with you?" Hope asked, staring at her father, her golden curls seeming to radiate concern.

"I'll be fine," Simon assured her. "And you're only a few feet away in case I need anything."

Hope still didn't look convinced.

River smiled slightly. "Come on. Let's go and check on David Gabriel, then I'll read you a story."

"About ..." Bethie was about to suggest, as usual, one about pirates, but the events of the night held her back.

"How about dinosaurs?" River held out her hands. "Your Uncle Wash knew some good tales about a place he called 'this land'. I can try and remember if you like."

The two girls tangled their fingers with their aunt's.

"'Kay, Auntie River," Hope said, letting her lead them back to their bunks.

"And you need to get some rest," Mal said. "Always did conjure doctors made the worst patients."

"Oh, believe me, after seeing you digging around in my leg, I may never sleep again," Simon deadpanned.

"You rather it had been Jayne?"

Luckily the com squawked, saving Mal's delicate ears from hearing more of the doctor's rapidly improving command of Chinese curses.

"_Mal, Fogarty's on the vid,"_ Hank's voice said. _"He wants to speak to you in person."_

And now Serenity's captain was looking at the manager of the Dundee Correctional Facility, and his eyebrows raised. "Dump 'em?"

Fogarty nodded. "Yeah. We wouldn't do anything else but bury 'em, and I could do without the hassle. Can you confirm they were the six went missing?"

"Well, the only one I can be sure of naming was a feller called Sebastian Coombs, but if you want we can send you their DNA profiles. I think I can manage to do that, at least."

"That'll be shiny. I just need the proof to send to the owners, and the reward is yours."

"Reward?"

Even Hank, slumped in the co-pilot's seat, sat up straighter.

"Yeah. It's automatic, when a prisoner escapes. Not much, but I reckon there'll probably be enough for a drink or two."

"How much not much are we talking here?" Mal wanted to know.

Fogarty named a figure, then grinned at the expression coming across the Cortex. "That enough for you?"

"Sounds ... reasonable," Mal agreed.

"Just send me the details of where you'd like it posted."

"No problem."

"Oh, and when you have that conversation with Badger, would you mind hitting him from me?"

Mal pulled himself together. "It'll be a pleasure."

* * *

Back in his bunk, Mal reviewed the events of the previous few hours as he stripped out of his clothes for the second time, dropping them carelessly on the chair and climbing back into the cold sheets.

Jayne had been more than happy to dump the bodies into the bomb bay, thumping his hand down on the controls to send them out into the everlasting night, and not even bothering to say a prayer over them. River had taken pity on her captain and collected the blood samples before her husband disposed of the corpses, making short work of organising the profiles to be sent to Fogarty the next morning.

Now the ship was silent again, everyone in their bunks, either sleeping or tossing and turning, depending on their natures.

Mal stared into the darkness above him, wondering at the vagaries of living in the black. And, if truth be told, wondering what was going to come next. For once it had been someone else who'd been shot, and not himself, which was a wonder, but he couldn't help feeling he was waiting for the other boot to drop. Things had been good for them in the past couple of months, and now this extra cash about to be burning a hole in his ... well, Inara's account, actually, since he didn't exactly want anything traceable to Serenity ... just seemed like icing on the cake. Something was bound to go wrong, and the longer the good times continued, the worse it was likely to be.

He sighed deeply, wishing Freya was next to him, warming her side of the bed, and chasing his worries back into –

_Mal? _It was her voice inside his head, sounding more than a little peevish. _Do you have the time now to tell me what the diyu was going on?_

He had to smile. Even thousands of miles away, his beautiful wife was more than capable of making her annoyance felt.


	12. Chapter 12

"Ouch."

"Sorry." Dr Gerald Barkin shifted his grip slightly on Zoe's shoulder, lifting her arm and checking the range of her extension. "You know, you have excellent muscle tone," he said appreciatively, gently manipulating his fingertips. "But that doesn't mean you can 'will' yourself better."

"I know. Our ship's medic said the same."

"And I imagine you listen to him about as much as you're likely to listen to me."

That morning at breakfast Freya had told Zoe, in no uncertain terms, that she was to get herself to the hospital and follow Simon's orders, and accompanied her to the infirmary door just to make sure.

On the way down the corridor, the ankle-deep carpet muffling their footsteps and while the rest of the girls were off exploring the boutiques on the third and fourth levels, Freya'd also told her what Mal had finally deigned to tell her about the trip from Aberdeen – her words – but between them they decided not to inform the others: there was nothing any of them could do but worry, and this was supposed to be a holiday.

"'Sides, we both know that if Kaylee finds out her husband has been a little bit shot, nothing in the 'verse is gonna stop her marching straight to the bridge and demanding the captain turn the liner around," Freya had added.

"That would be fun to see."

"For us, maybe. I think the captain might not find it so amusing."

"Pity."

She'd stopped outside the door that announced, in discreet gold lettering, that the doctor was in. "No more procrastinating."

"Not sure I shouldn't be taking offence at you suggesting I am doing any such thing."

Freya grinned. "Get inside."

"You're not my sergeant."

"In absentia …"

Zoe had glared at the other woman, but Freya didn't back down.

Now only the tightness of the skin around her eyes showed Zoe's discomfort. "I need to exercise. Otherwise that excellent muscle tone you like so much will go to pot."

Barkin tutted, rotating her upper arm. "And if you're not sensible you might end up never being able to lift your arm above your shoulder ever again."

Zoe had to smile. "It took Simon a week to tell me that. It's taken you all of ten minutes."

"He knows you." The smile was reciprocated. "I expect you're more likely to threaten him more readily than a stranger."

"I could make an exception."

"I'd rather you didn't." He chuckled, low and throaty, not stopping the simple movement. "Do you mind if I ask where you're from? You're not one of the usual sort we get in here."

"Usual sort?"

His brown eyes twinkled. "Paper cuts from too much canasta. Strained eyes from the Cortex halls. And the perennial stomach problems from too much food."

"Sounds exciting."

"Oh, you should be around when we hit a planet. Occasionally someone actually sprains their ankle."

"So many years of medical school and it comes to this, eh?"

"Sometimes I wonder if I can stand the excitement."

She laughed at his dry humour. "You remind me of our medic." _And not just in manner_, Zoe added silently. There was something about his looks that seemed almost familiar. Maybe it was the way his dark hair fell over his forehead, like Mal's did on occasion when it was longer than usual and before Freya gave it a trim, or perhaps it was the sparkle in his eyes when he looked at her like that.

"Your notes say he's Simon Frye. Where did he learn the trade?"

"He didn't." She fell back on the usual white lie. "Well, not for long. Family troubles."

"Pity. He's very thorough. He'd have made a good addition to the medical fraternity." He paused. "This might hurt a little." He twisted something.

Zoe managed to suppress the gasp. "It did."

"Sorry. But you had a small adhesion. It should feel better now."

"I believe you."

He smiled. "But I meant what I said about your medic. His notes are very good."

"I'll be sure to tell him. Where did you go?" Just making conversation, anything to not think about the pain.

"Medacad. On Osiris."

Zoe didn't jerk in his hands, but only because she again had herself under iron control. "Really. Supposed to be good," she said slowly, her mind running ahead of the conversation. Barkin looked the same age as Simon, so there was the distinct possibility that they had known each other. It certainly appeared to be lucky that their doctor was still on Serenity.

"The best. I loved it there. Oh, it was hard work, of course, but I never felt so supported and cosseted as I did there."

"And then you come out to the real world and find yourself dealing with canasta cuts and stomach upsets."

"It's a dirty job, but someone has to do it."

Zoe shook her head. There was something very attractive about this doctor, and not just his looks. "I'm sure the captain thinks you're worth your weight in gold."

"Only because I have the secret recipe to his skin crème secreted about my person."

"That's way too much information." She laughed. "So how did you come to be stuck on a wreck like this?"

"I like to eat. You can get dressed again, by the way. I've done." He turned away, ostensibly to wash his hands, but Zoe got the feeling there was a lot more that he wasn't saying.

"Not from a wealthy family, then, eh?" she asked quietly.

"No." He took a breath and faced her again, the warm smile back on his face. "Not me. And I didn't always talk like this, either. But I discovered pretty early on that if I didn't sound like I came from the Core, nobody was going to hire me, let alone train me."

"So where are you from?"

"Oh, nowhere special." He clapped his hands together. "Well, at the moment all I can suggest is that you keep up with the routine you've already been prescribed. I can give you a massage each morning, which will at least loosen things up, and a little light physio in the afternoon."

"Is that what you call it?"

He chuckled. "It might ache for a while but I think you'll find it improved. I can get you a painkiller if you'd like."

"No, I think I'll be okay." Zoe climbed down from the examination couch. "And I don't want to take up too much of your time, Dr Barkin."

"Gerry. Call me Gerry."

"I don't think so, Dr Barkin." She spoke firmly.

"Ah." He gazed at her. "Was I coming on a little strong?"

"A little. And I am married." She held up her left hand.

"I noticed." He shook his head. "And I suppose it's pretty solid."

"That it is."

"Oh, well. Can't fault a man for trying."

"I think my husband might disagree." She adjusted her shirt as best she could with one hand.

He chuckled again. "But I still prescribe the massage and physiotherapy."

"I'll think about it."

"I'll see you at three this afternoon."

"I said I'll think about it."

He walked to the door and opened it for her. "Three o'clock."

"Maybe." She strode out before he could say another word, determined to go and take a long, hot shower to ease the ache in her shoulder muscles.

* * *

Two hours and a nap she'd never admit to later, Zoe found Freya in one of the swimming halls, sitting on a lounger with a tall glass of something containing at least eight different pieces of fruit on the table at her side, and a book in her hand. She was amused to see it was one of Hank's trashy novels – Freya had got a taste for them when she was pregnant with Ethan, and Simon had insisted on complete bed rest for several months. She swore they were the only thing that kept her going: that and the ubiquitous soaps on the Cortex.

"Enjoying yourself?" Zoe asked, looking down at the reclining woman.

"Hating every second," Freya joked. "I mean, this place ... you'd think they would have spent just a little money on it, don't you?"

Zoe looked around at the palm trees and hibiscus bushes lining the walkways by the pool, making the artificial daylight dapple across the water. Above it appeared as if the sun was shining through the curved glass roof that dipped to join the low wall opposite, with blue sky all the way across. What with the soft sound of birdsong and the background hum of insects, she could almost believe it was real, and she could step outside into a jungle instead of the coldness of space.

"Yeah," she agreed. "They could have made it pretty average."

Freya smiled. "That they could."

"So where are the girls? Still shopping?" Zoe lowered herself onto the next sunbed, her shoulder feeling surprisingly more comfortable than it had done in a while, even under Simon's gentle care.

"No. I think they got bored."

"With spending money?"

"Had to happen some time. Right now the twins are in the sauna. I thought I'd go back in about a while, see if they're cooked yet."

"I'm surprised you didn't join them."

Wrinkling her nose Freya said, "A little too claustrophobic for my taste."

"What about Kaylee?"

The smile expanded into a grin. "Oh, I think she might have gone to find the engine room."

"Two days. Just two days with all this and she has to go and get greasy." Zoe laughed. "Although I think she did well to manage as long as she did."

"Oh, I don't think grease comes into it. Not in a place like this. Way too bright and shiny to have anything as lowly as grease."

"So we expect to see her escorted back any time now?"

"I'm thinking more that she's probably being given a guided tour, having wrapped them around her little finger."

The two women shared a grin.

"Talking of bright and shiny, where's Inara?"

In response Freya pointed. "In there."

Zoe followed her finger, and her eyebrows raised. "That's her?"

"That's her," Freya confirmed.

They both gazed at the woman in the pool, swimming an elegant breaststroke, her head up, her dark hair covered by a lime green bathing cap adorned with pink flowers. As she kicked and pulled, she left barely a wake on the surface of the water, moving through it with surprising efficiency.

"Full make-up," Zoe observed.

"Of course."

"It's been a while."

Freya shrugged. "It's this place. Being here, amongst this level of luxury, makes her more aware of who she was."

"An ex-Companion."

"Mmn."

"Does she miss it?"

"No." If Freya's voice was firmer than it needed to be, nobody was going to remonstrate. "If she was still what she was, she could never have Sam, and what they have is far more important to her. It's just ... memories."

"She could always share some with us."

Freya's lips twitched. "You mean give us some of the juicy stories?"

"Blow by blow."

Sometimes it still surprised Freya that her friend had an impish side. All through the war, and for some time after, Zoe had been the sensible one, curtailing Mal's wilder excesses, counselling him and reining him in at the same time. Maybe it was Hank's influence, although in all honesty it was Wash who'd started it, showing his dark Amazon of a wife that there could be fun in a life out in the black, even if it sometimes came with dinosaurs.

"Maybe after dinner." Freya seemed to take an inordinate interest in her book again. "Oh, and ... um ... by the way, someone was asking after you."

Zoe grimaced. "Let me guess."

"A certain rather handsome young doctor."

"He's going to be a nuisance, I can tell."

"Oh, I don't know." Freya put the novel down on the table, a sure sign she was about to stir things a little, particularly with that twinkle in her eye. "Like I said, he's quite good-looking. And Hank's not here. Besides, you're on holiday. A little flirtation, perhaps just the taste of romance …"

Zoe dropped into the chair next to her. "You like him that much, you take him, then."

"Thanks, but I'm married."

"Me too."

Freya grinned. "Does _he_ know that?"

Zoe ran her finger over her wedding band. "It doesn't seem to matter. If Simon hadn't been so insistent, and you nagging if I didn't, I wouldn't go back."

"I don't nag. Much," she added out of a sense of honesty. "Do you want a chaperone? It's what I'm here for."

"Maybe I'll call on your services."

"Well, we arrive at Delphi tomorrow morning, so if this potential bodyguard's okay, I'll be free to make sure the good doctor doesn't molest you."

"More likely you'll be stopping me from shooting him."

Freya's laughter rang out over the water, causing the swimmers to look at her curiously. "That might be fun too."

"Anyway, I don't want a holiday flirtation," Zoe said, laying back and returning to the other matter. "I don't feel like it."

"Missing Hank?"

"Perhaps. But don't you go telling him I said so."

"Why not? He's your husband. You're allowed."

"I have a reputation to uphold."

"Warrior woman?"

"Exactly."

"Who's let two men inside her armour?" Freya paused. "Okay, that sounded a lot less kinky inside my mind." She shook her head. "If it helps, I miss Mal too. Oh, I know I get to talk to him, but that's actually getting more difficult the further away we get. And with that cargo, they can't match our speed. I think they're going to find it hard going to get to Persephone on time."

"Not that anyone can tell how fast we're going."

"No." Freya gazed out over the water. "You know the clocks aren't right."

"What?"

"I think they're doing it on purpose, so when we get to our various destinations, local time agrees with shipboard time."

"Is it making you itchy?" Zoe asked astutely.

"A bit. And for the record, I'm blaming that for feeling ..."

"Bereft."

"Mmn." Freya smiled, a little sadness tinting her eyes. "You know, I never used to be like this. Before I came on board, stopped chasing Mal long enough for him to catch me, I could probably count the number of times I'd cried on the fingers of one hand." She sniffed. "Now I do it all the time, at any provocation. And I used to be such a ..."

"Warrior woman?"

"Exactly."

"Well, as a certain person told me, not so long ago, it's only a few days. Then we'll be back in the bosom of our family."

"I feel the need to make some comment, something Jayne-like, about you using the word 'bosom'," Freya said thoughtfully.

Zoe grinned as Inara climbed elegantly from the pool, the flowers on her ridiculous swimcap vibrating slightly. Picking up a towel she began to pat her skin dry.

"Am I missing something?" she asked.

"Oh, nothing much," Freya said. "Only 'bosoms'." Then she caught Zoe's eye.

Inara looked from one to the other as they both burst into gales of laughter. "Honestly," she muttered, stepping into her fluffy high heels. "I can't take you two anywhere."

* * *

The next morning the shuttle was beginning to fill with people just itching to go and see the wonders of Delphi, but as the time came to start down to the planet's surface, Freya was surprised to see that a fair percentage of the passengers must have stayed behind.

"I can't see the point," she muttered.

"What?" Zoe looked at her.

"Staying on board the ship when you could go and get some good fresh air."

"And have to leave that twenty-four hour food?" Kaylee puffed her cheeks out. "I'm gonna be huge by the time we get back home."

"Some people only go on cruises for the service, and not to actually go anywhere," Inara explained, patting the mechanic's arm.

"Still seems odd." Freya looked up as a voice spoke over the tannoy, all silk and promises.

"_Welcome to the beautiful world of Delphi. We will shortly be landing at the port of Oracle City, from where you will be transported by carriage to the Sapphire Falls, at which time you can partake of the hot springs, and the famous volcanic beauty ritual."_

Zoe glanced at Freya, one eyebrow raised.

"Mud baths," the captain's wife interpreted.

"Ah."

"It's supposed to be excellent," Inara added.

"Haven't you been there?" Freya teased. "I thought you'd been everywhere."

"Not quite." The ex-companion gave her a cool look, making her friend smile.

"Oh, I can't wait," Phoebe said, staring out of the porthole at the green planet rushing up to meet them. "Although I have heard you've got to strip naked for the mud baths." Her nose wrinkled. "Doesn't that mean it gets _everywhere_?"

"Phee," Valentia admonished, glancing around to see if anyone had overheard. "Keep your voice down."

"Why?"

"People might be listening."

Phoebe looked her sister, honestly not seeing the problem.

"You're not the only one," said another voice, young and female. "Looking forward to it, I mean."

They turned.

"Sorry." A girl, probably only a year older than the twins, grinned. "Can't keep my mouth shut at the best of times, according to my Pa." She bounced up to them. "I'm Joy. Joy Danette."

Inara had to smile, her eyes running up and down the girl's slim figure, adorned in clothes she didn't seem quite at home in, her red hair cut in a fashionable bob that skimmed her chin. "I think the name suits you."

Joy laughed happily. "My Ma said the same. She can't decide, though, whether I'm the way I am 'cause of my name, or she somehow knew what I was gonna be like anyway."

"I'm Inara Serra, by the way. And this is Kaylee Frye."

For a moment Kaylee wondered who she was talking about, then remembered that, after the fight on Hera and the death of Mara Tam, he'd decided to call himself Simon Frye. She smiled widely. "That I am."

"And this is Zoe Mills, Freya Reynolds, and these are Valentia and Phoebe Reilly," Inara said, completing the introductions.

Joy nodded. "It's so nice to meet you all. I mean, I like everyone here, a'course, but no-one wants to talk. Not, you know, real friendly talk."

"I know what you mean." Kaylee dropped her voice conspiratorially. "If I didn't have my family with me, I wouldn't have said a word to anyone. They all look like they … _bu zan cheng_."

"It's not that they disapprove, Kaylee," Inara said quietly. "But a lot of people in the Core are reserved." She shot Phoebe a warning glance.

"Dillon and Breed ain't. Neither is Sir Warwick."

"Dillon and Breed are … different. And they were Freya's friends long before we ever met them. And Sir Warwick had to get to know us."

"I guess." Kaylee sighed, but her brightness won through as always. "Still, they could smile occasionally."

"S'true," Joy said. "Most of 'em look like they've got a stick up their _pigu_."

Inara tried not to smile. "And young ladies don't say things like that," she admonished gently.

"Good job I ain't a young lady, then." Joy laughed. "Oh, you know, I'm sure we're gonna get along like a house on fire."

"Are you planning on burning something down?" Freya asked.

Joy blushed. "Well, that was only the once, and I was six."

Freya raised her eyebrows. "Really."

"Only the doghouse. I wanted Kilo to sleep indoors with me, only my Pa wouldn't let him on account he thought dogs should be outside, so I figured if we didn't have someplace to put him …" The blush burned brighter in her cheeks. "I got my backside tanned for that, and Pa built a new kennel. Only by that time everyone'd got used to Kilo being inside in my room, that nobody mentioned it again." The grin was back as the red receded.

"Member of the family," Kaylee said stoutly.

"That's right." Joy giggled. "And the truth is, only reason we're here is 'cause my Pa won the lottery."

"Lottery?"

"Yeah. Don't you play?" She was so enthusiastic it was impossible not to like her. "It's Alliance, a'course, but Pa says that don't matter when it's cash. He'll take it off anyone. See, you have to pick a series of numbers and letters, and if yours gets picked out, you get a prize."

"How big a prize?" Kaylee wanted to know.

"Well, this was the first, so it was pretty big. Pa won't tell me, says it'd only put ideas into my head, but I said, if we're goin' on a cruise, I've got an idea already."

"Where _are_ your parents?" Freya asked.

"Oh, they stayed on board." Joy shrugged. "Ma said she was too tired, and she wanted to rest for a while, and since they're looking forward more to the Core, they said I probably couldn't get into too much trouble going down to Delphi on my own." A mischievous look flashing through her eyes suggested they were probably wrong.

"Well, you can stay with us if you like," Inara suggested.

"Ooh, can I?" Joy seemed to be on springs. "I mean, I like doing stuff by myself, but all of this, all these stuck up folks ... it's kind of intimidating, you know what I mean?"

"I know exactly." Inara hooked her arm through the girl's. "Freya and Zoe have a few errands to run in the town, but the rest of us can go and have a good time at the Falls."

"And the mud baths," Phoebe put in.

"_We are preparing to land. Please make sure you are seated. Thank you."_ The voice again.

They could feel the engine cycling back, the faint vibration clear to the handful used to living on a ship. Outside the colour of the sky changed from black to red to bright, bright blue.

"Hold onto something," Kaylee muttered. "We're going down pretty fast."

The others did what she suggested, grasping the strategically placed handrails as a sudden decrease in acceleration made all their stomachs flip. A moment later and a shudder through the elegant interior announced that they were down.

"Hank does it better," Kaylee stage-whispered to Zoe.

"I kinda agree with you, _mei-mei_."

"Do you think the pilot's still learning?" Freya asked.

She was saved from anyone responding by the tannoy announcing, _"Welcome to Delphi."_

* * *

The bar looked like a million others on a thousand different moons and planets, and the scent as they pushed open the double doors was as familiar as Jayne's perfume.

"Do you think they're going to be okay?" Zoe asked quietly, glancing over her shoulder towards the Empress's shuttle.

"Inara will keep an eye on them," Freya said, stepping into the slightly gloomy interior. "It's the first stop. They're all going to be far too excited to find trouble quite yet."

"You have a lot of faith in them."

"Hope, Zoe. Hope." She smiled, then crossed to bar, a long strip of wood intermixed with chrome. A mirror filled the wall, shelves of fancy coloured bottles ranged across the front, while a Cortex sat in the corner, the sound turned off.

A man in a striped shirt and tight buttoned waistcoat turned, smiling at her. "Ladies," he said. "Welcome to Terpsichore." He indicated the same word written in bright red neon across the top of the mirror. "What can I get for you this fine morning?"

"Hi." Freya nodded warmly. "We're looking for a man, name of Will Everett."

The barman shrugged, seeing some profit disappear over the horizon. "He's up in his room. You the people wanting to hire him?"

"Thinking about it. Got any observations on the matter?" Zoe asked.

"He's okay, I guess. Been here a coupla weeks, paid his rent on time in cash. Spends the evenings playing cards."

"Did he win?"

"Some." The barman grunted. "Not sure if he's sly, but he didn't partake of the girls, least not here."

"Which room?"

"Nine. First floor."

"Thanks."

The two women headed for the stairs. At the first landing Freya nodded at the sign on the wall. "This way," she said, turning left.

"Think he's going to be okay?" Zoe wanted to know, glad she had the pistol Jayne had given her tucked into the back of her waistband under her short jacket, ready for her to draw left-handed if needed. When Freya didn't answer, she looked at her friend. "What is it?"

"Not sure." Freya paused outside a door prominently declared as number nine. Something was ticking her senses, a feeling she recognised, perhaps even someone ...

"Trouble?"

"No, I ... don't think so."

"But? There's a but in there." Zoe slipped her hand around her waist.

"_But_ I don't know what the problem is."

"Well, no time like the present to find out." She tensed slightly.

"Yes." Freya raised her hand, knocking loudly.

"Coming," said a man from inside, other noises suggesting movement. After only a few seconds the door opened. "What can I do for ..." His jaw dropped. "_Cao_."

Freya stared at him. "Flynn?"


	13. Chapter 13

At the tender age of fifteen, before she'd ever met Noah Thacker, or dreamed fitfully of becoming a Browncoat and owning her own boat, Jezebel Youngblood did what her family considered the ultimate sin – she fell in love. And worse still (if there can be a worse after the ultimate sin) she became pregnant.

Her father ranted and raved, her mother looked at her with something like disappointment in her eyes, while Jez stood in the centre of the Sihnon-weave carpet, her hands held tightly in front of her still-flat stomach, the natural stoicism of her heritage about the only thing keeping her from falling apart.

"You'll never see him again," her father insisted.

"I love him."

If anything her father's face congested even more. "Love?" he scoffed. "What do you know about love? You're a child."

"I'm going have his baby."

Her own mother put her hand to her mouth and ran from the room.

Her father glared at her. "Now look what you've done."

"Alan loves me. We're going to be together."

"You think?" He stopped in his pacing. "Do you really think he's going to want to be tied down to a wife and child at his age?"

"Yes." She gazed at him, her stubbornness radiating from every pore, as sure in her love as she was in the world turning. "He loves me," she repeated.

Unfortunately, her father was right. As much as Alan denied it, he was heir to the family fortune, and no matter that the Youngbloods had money, it wasn't old, and to the Tennysons that was all that was important. He was shipped off to the family estate on Londinium, and in barely a month the engagement was announced between him and the youngest daughter of … Jez couldn't read any more. She closed the Cortex link and rolled up into ball on her bed, her heart breaking.

Shortly after her sixteenth birthday, Jez was delivered of a healthy baby boy, his lungs announcing that he wasn't happy to be thrust into the cold, cruel world. She named him Flynn.

For six months she fed, changed and otherwise did for her son, learning from servants and her own mistakes what worked and what didn't, with little or no help from her parents. Then she went to see her father.

"You don't want me here," she said, standing straight in front of his desk. "You've made that perfectly clear."

"_You've_ brought shame on your family."

She didn't rise to it. "If you'll give me some money, I'll leave. Be out of your hair. You can make up any story for your friends that you like."

He studied her, his eyes narrowed. "And the child?"

"He comes with me."

He snorted. "You're little more than a child yourself. What can you give him, Jezebel? A life with nothing?"

"My love. He's my son."

A smile, small and hateful, slid across his features. "No, Jezebel. It won't be like that. We'll raise him. I'm willing to settle a large amount on you, enough to keep you comfortable, if you're careful. But the boy stays with me."

Tears prickled her eyes. "You can't do that."

"Oh, I can." He sat forward. "You haven't reached your majority yet, at least not on this world, and according to the local law you still belong to me. As does any of your off-spring. And if you fight me, I'm willing to take you to the full extent of that law."

At that moment she loathed him, any love she might have had for him burned out of her. She blinked hard, determined not to cry in front of him, sitting there in that green leather chair, surrounded by books he'd never bothered to read. "He's _my_ son."

"No. He's my grandson. And I'll make sure he's brought up to respect his elders. Unlike you." He glanced down at his hands, loosely clasped on the old wood. "You have two choices. Leave, with the money I give you, or – as you seem so determined to ignore my wishes – I will place you in a home. Five years, Jezebel. Until you're twenty-one." He laughed humourlessly. "Do you really think you can survive that?"

He'd been planning it, Jez realised. Probably from the moment he'd found out she was pregnant, waiting for her to have had enough. And now she knew she had no choice, not if she wanted to keep her sanity. "I want to hear about him. To be able to talk to him."

Her father nodded, but it turned into a shrug. "We'll see." Now he had what he wanted, he was all business. "I'll have the money transferred to your account. And as I'm not a complete barbarian, you can take a week to say goodbye. But after that date, you're no longer my daughter."

Jez tossed her head back and steeled her shoulders. "I haven't been your daughter for a long time."

The week came and went at the speed of light, at the same time dragging its heels until she thought she would scream, but finally she had to leave, the belongings she couldn't bear to leave behind in a carpet bag, with a few choice pieces of her mother's jewellery wrapped in one of her sweaters, just in case. Except the most precious thing she had to leave behind, and she almost couldn't bear to walk down the drive, knowing they'd closed the door on her, not even waiting to see her leave the property.

Her father was as good as his word, at least at first, and sent the occasional wave, a capture or two, but they were few and far between, and these trailed off. By then Jez was embroiled in the war, learning that hating and fighting were two different things, but that both of them could equally get her killed. And if thoughts of her son kept her warm at night, it was only wishful thinking.

Then one day, one hot summer day on Boros, when the smells of the factories mixed with the dry dust and blew in through Cherokee's open airlock …

"Mother."

Jez almost fainted. She hadn't seen him in the flesh for so many years, and yet she knew him right away. He looked like his father in that he was blond haired, taller and more muscular than herself, but with her nose. "Flynn?"

His hands rested on the gunbelt around his hips. "I came to find you. To ask you why you didn't want me."

She tried. For a long time she tried, taking him on board, introducing him to the crew, wanting to make him feel a part of the family. They spoke for hours, but it always ended the same way, with Flynn striding from the room, his anger wrapped around him like a red, fiery blanket, and nothing she said made any difference. As far as he was concerned, his mother had abandoned him, leaving his grandparents to shoulder the responsibility.

On a couple of occasions they met up with Serenity, spending a week in each other's company one time, near a month the next, working side by side, and Freya attempted to talk some sense into him. Even Mal took him in hand, speaking man to man, but Jez's father had done his job all too well. The resentment was too ingrained, too deep. Flynn asked Mal to drop him somewhere, anywhere, and it was with a heavy heart that the captain agreed.

As the boy stood on the cargo bay ramp, preparing to walk off into the crowd of Eavesdown Docks, he settled his belt around his slim hips, and Freya tried once more.

"Wave her. Once in a while. Just to let you know you're alive. She deserves that much, at least."

For once Flynn didn't automatically disagree, but looked into the older woman's eyes, an odd sadness etched into his face. "I know you see the best in people," he said. "But …"

"But nothing. I like Jez. Very much. And I don't see the best in people. What I can do is read them, something I'm pretty good at. And your mother loves you. She never wanted to give you up in the first place."

He sighed. It was an old argument, and no closer to being resolved. "Right."

"Just … wave her. Please."

"I'll … think about it." He picked up his rucksack. "See you," he said, and marched away into the crowd, disappearing from view all too quickly, not to be heard from again.

Until the hotel in Oracle City, Delphi, and now Flynn Youngblood was staring at Freya, his eyes wide, his mouth open.

Zoe, feeling an odd trickle of amusement, looked from one to the other. "Come on," she said. "I think we'd better be having this conversation inside."

"What?" Flynn shot her a glance, then nodded. "Yes. Yes, I think … yes." He stood to one side, letting the two women into his room.

Zoe looked around the small room – a single bed, a chair and a drawer unit, clean but very much functional – then turned to gaze at Flynn. A quick glance told her that Freya hadn't quite regained her self control, so she took it upon herself to say, "Well, unless you've turned sly and he's hiding someplace, I take it you're using the name Will Everett."

Flynn pushed his hands into his pants pockets and hunched his shoulders, looking less like the gunhand and more like a teenager caught out in a lie. "It's what folks call me," he admitted grudgingly.

Freya found her voice. "How come?"

"People know the name Youngblood. It's not like it's that common." His voice, only a little belligerent, still held traces of his upbringing, the careful enunciation only hidden, not vanished. This young man wasn't likely to use words like _ain't_, at least not unless he consciously chose to.

"So?"

"I'm not going to trade on her reputation."

"Her? She's your mother, Flynn."

"She abandoned me."

Freya could feel the resentment still inside, but it was tempered, and a small spark of hope flared to life in her chest. "Not by choice."

Zoe wondered if they were going to get into the same old argument, but Flynn surprised her.

He glanced down at the threadbare carpet under his boots. "How ..." He cleared his throat. "How is she?"

"Physically, fine. But she misses you." Freya wanted to read him, but held back. Now wasn't the time to destroy any trust.

"Yeah." He obviously didn't want to talk about it, as he asked instead, "How did you find me?"

"We weren't looking," Zoe said.

"Then how ..." Realisation dawned. "You're Malfrey's friends."

"Dillon, yes." Freya looked him up and down. "He seems to think you're okay."

"I've done a few things for him. I'm trustworthy."

"Did he tell you what the job was?"

"Bodyguard. A couple of girls out on a cruise. He didn't tell me it was you, though."

"No more he should," Zoe said firmly. "We don't like our business broadcast over the 'verse."

"No. No, of course." He took a deep breath. "So ... what do we do now? I mean, it's not like I've any references I can show you, but if there's anything you want to know, I'll try and answer it."

Freya was surprised. "You still want the job?"

For a moment he didn't answer, then he sighed heavily. "Look, I've no money. The freighter I was working on, well, their old gunhand wanted back, so they had to let me go. I had a few coins scraped together, and I've been lucky at cards, but I've nowhere near enough to get a ride off planet. And it's not exactly the kind of place the ships I usually work come to." He straightened up, gaining an inch or two. "So yes. I want the job. And I'm good, you know that."

Zoe nodded faintly, remembering the very odd occasions they'd had the opportunity to see him in action. While he wasn't quite as fast as Mal, he was close, and very accurate. What's more he was slow to rile, at least when it came to things other than his mother, but when he knew there was a problem, he was capable of resolving it quickly, often without resort to bloodshed.

"How old are you now?" Freya asked suddenly.

He looked surprised. "Twenty five."

"And how many men have you killed?"

The surprise turned to a slight shock. "Is that relevant?"

"Yes."

His shoulders slumped again, as if he was seeing the possibility of leaving Delphi disappearing over the horizon at a rate of knots. "I don't know. Face to face, in a one on one gunfight, probably a dozen or so. But with the kind of work I do, there are ambushes, general fights, that sort of thing. I don't know how many might have died at my hand under those circumstances."

"And you were always on the right side?"

"No."

"Well, at least you're honest."

"I've come to realise there isn't usually a right side. Just shades of grey." He squared his shoulders again. "But I don't kill women or children, and try not to take innocent lives."

"And you're a good enough shot to be able to stick to that."

"Yes."

"Your grandfather taught you well."

"He didn't know. Someone else showed me how to use a gun."

Zoe's curiosity got the better of her. "Who?"

"Just someone on the estate. He said I needed to know how to defend myself." Flynn allowed a tiny smile to crease his lips. "He knew I wasn't going to be staying."

It was the first time Flynn had talked about his life between Jez having to leave and him looking for her, and as much as Freya wanted to push, to ask more questions, she knew that if she did that the little foothold might give altogether, so she reined in her curiosity. Instead she glanced at Zoe. "Well?"

They stared at each other for a long time, then the first mate shrugged, turning back to Flynn. "You've got a week to prove to us you're the right man. If you are, fine. You can finish the cruise with the girls, making sure they ain't put into any harm's way. But make no mistake, we're gonna be talking to Dillon too, seeing if he can put a couple of other names our way, because if we find we don't trust you, for any reason, you'll be put off, and we won't care where that is. _Dong mah_?"

Flynn nodded. "I understand. And I won't let you down."

"Shiny."

Freya suddenly smiled. "Well, you'd better get packed. The shuttle leaves for the Empress at dusk, and I for one don't want to miss out on all the fun."

* * *

"This is heaven," Kaylee said, sinking down just a little further into her mud hole.

"It's certainly relaxing." Inara looked around their private section. Carved from the pink rock itself but dressed up with gold filigree so it looked as if the precious metal had seeped from the granite, the floor had half a dozen small pits, each the right size for one person, or two if they really wanted to be intimate. Although, in all honesty, the gently bubbling mud might not have been conducive to that kind of extra-curricular activity since Phoebe had been right, and the silkiness seemed to get everywhere.

Currently, though, five of the six baths were occupied.

"I wasn't too sure," Kaylee went on, her eyes closing. "You know, wondering who'd been in here afore me, but when they said they change the mud every time ..."

"A place like this can't be too careful over health," Inara said, sipping from a tall glass of something cold and feeling a single trickle of sweat making its way down her neck towards her shoulders.

"Oh, ain't that the case," Joy agreed, draining her own glass and holding it out for a refill. A slender young man in a pure white sleeveless vest and pants was more than happy to oblige. "I mean," Joy went on, letting her gaze rest on the waiter's perfect backside for a moment as he headed to the bar, "my Ma works in a bakery, and you'd never believe the regulations she has to contend with. It's a wonder anything gets made at all." She grinned at the waiter as he brought her the fresh drink. "Thanks, honey."

"You're welcome." His eyes didn't dip below her face, but there was something seductive in them, all the same.

"So," Inara said, quite loudly. "Do you think your mother's going to continue working now, since your family won the Lottery?"

"Don't know." Joy dragged her attention away, and the young man faded into the background again.

"Not sure I could," Kaylee said, moving through the mud so she could rest her elbows on the edge. "Not just sit and do nothing. I'd get bored."

Joy laughed. "Give me the chance to find out!"

Phoebe brushed a lock of her hair out of her eyes, leaving a soft smear of mud across her forehead. "Did you see that feller this morning?" she asked in a conspiratorial whisper to her sister that rang from one side of the room to the other. "Really _suai_."

"And which young man was this?" Inara wanted to know.

Phoebe blushed, or would have done if she hadn't already been pink in the face from the warmth. "Oh, just a boy."

"I think he's some kinda champion," Kaylee put in. "I saw him showing someone a handful of medals." She grinned. "And I saw you ogling him."

"I wasn't!" Phoebe was indignant.

"You were," Val agreed, far too relaxed to do more than gently needle her sister.

"We don't mind, you know," Inara said quickly. "If you want to meet young men. That's one of the reasons you're on the cruise. Just so long as you remember they aren't all honourable."

"You mean like Uncle Mal?" Phoebe asked.

"Exactly." Although Inara wasn't sure if Phoebe meant he was or wasn't honourable, but gave her the benefit of the doubt.

"Oh, I think I know how to handle 'em," the young woman said contentedly.

Val sighed heavily, and Inara felt a thrill of concern.

* * *

Kaylee was delighted to see Flynn, having taken to him before in her usual sunshine bright way, and as he sat awkwardly in a seat as the shuttle took off she linked her arm through his.

"It ain't that bad," she whispered, patting his arm. "You'll like the girls, and they've been brought up by Inara, so they know what's right and wrong. And they're fun, too."

"I won't be having fun," Flynn said, looking down into the young woman's face and wondering if she ever saw the bad in anyone. "That's not exactly part of the job description."

"I don't think you'll be having a choice."

"I might not get the job."

"Sure you will. It ain't like Frey and the rest don't know you."

"They don't."

"Sure they do. You're Jez's son."

"And that makes it all right for you?"

"Sure it does."

He shook his head, his eyes catching sight of the Reilly twins. "They're staring at me," he commented.

Kaylee glanced across at Val and Phoebe. "Well, you're a pretty good looking kinda guy."

"It won't last."

"What, your good looks?"

"A man in my line of work tends to accumulate scars."

"Do you have many?"

"A few," he admitted.

"Nowhere noticeable." She grinned. "And talking about being a man, that's crazy. You're younger'n me."

"I've been a man for a long time, Kaylee. It's just people don't want me to grow up."

"We never do," the mechanic said. "To our parents, we stay about six years old forever."

"You say that like it's a good thing."

Kaylee chuckled. "Of course it is. Going home, well, it's the one place they have to let you in."

"Not always, Kaylee."

"If it's a good one they do."

"And you think Cherokee's one of those."

She nodded firmly. "A'course it is." She laughed again. "And don't you worry about the girls. They'll get used to you having to follow 'em everywhere."

He stared at her. "Everywhere?"

A little way down the shuttle, Inara was talking quietly to Freya and Zoe.

"Is this a good idea?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" Freya looked surprisingly innocent.

"I mean that I never met the boy, but I've heard about him. Can he be trusted?"

"Kaylee likes him."

"Kaylee likes everyone until it's proved otherwise." She glanced at the young man. "What do we know about him?"

Zoe shifted slightly in her seat, her shoulder aching a little. "We've got a week to find out. And I'll be asking a lot of questions, don't you fear."

"Then I want to talk to him too."

The other women looked at her.

"Why?" Freya asked.

Inara almost sighed. "Because these girls have been my responsibility for some time, and I don't intend to let them out of my sight with someone I don't trust one hundred percent. For any reason. I mean it."

"Neither do we," Zoe said placatingly.

"Then I want to interview him. I might not be a Companion any more, but my training was very extensive. And working with Sam has only honed my skills. Flynn has to prove to me he's worthy of the job."

"Inara –" Freya began.

"No. I mean it," she repeated. "And you know Mal would agree."

"That's not fair."

"I don't care."

* * *

Inara was right – she wasn't the only one with objections, although oddly enough Mal's were of a different kind, and that night, at least as far as they were concerned, Freya was having a difficult conversation with her husband.

"You can't fix this, Frey," Mal said firmly, using his voice for emphasis as he sat on the bridge, taking the late watch.

Her response was quieter than it had been on previous occasions, the distance between them growing as the Empress of Sihnon powered towards her next stop. _I can try._

"It's up to Flynn. You know that. You can't make him want Jez as his Ma. It's his choice, always has been." She didn't respond, and for a moment he wondered if she'd left his mind and he hadn't noticed. "Frey?"

No, she was still there_. I want to give him a chance. _The words came through quite clearly. _Dillon obviously thinks he's trustworthy or he wouldn't have recommended him._

"Dillon recommended Will Everett," Mal reminded her. "How do we know it's him?"

_I know._

"Okay, maybe you do. But that don't mean –"

_I can keep an eye on him._

"Nag him, you mean." The words were out before his brain engaged.

_Nag him?_

He had a quick flash of the couch in the common area, and he had to grin. "Frey, honey, I've a notion you can't make it worse than it already is, what with not having you next to me in the first place."

The frost melted. _Me too, zhang fu. But I'm still letting Flynn try the job for size._

"What about the girls? Do they like him?"

_Phoebe couldn't take her eyes off him._ Now it was the impression of a smile. _Val was a bit more standoffish, but then she's always found it hard to get to know people sometimes._

"You mean boys. Unlike Phoebe."

_True. But I'm sure they'll get along fine._

Mal sighed. Freya had a stubborn streak a mile wide. Almost as wide, in fact, as his own. This time, though, he knew it was better to give in semi-gracefully. "Fine. Just you keep that eye on him."

_I will. Thank you._

"Couldn't've talked you out of it anyway, _xin gan_." He felt a spectral hand caress his chest, just running softly down the scar.

_I love you._

"And trying to get round me that way ..." He heard her laugh in his mind, and gave himself over to his wife's many and varied mental talents.


	14. Chapter 14

Time passed, as time tends to in the normal 'verse, although River had a long lecture prepared on that very subject, with a slideshow and some ten dollar words that … no. The look on the captain's face was enough to stop her. So suffice it to say that the clocks moved on, hair grew, and the distance between the Empress of Sihnon and Serenity increased with each day, and two very different styles of life were going on.

_**Serenity …**_

"She's doing her best," Hank said, "but with that cargo in her hold it's like trying to swim through treacle. Each time we pick up a little boost or brake from a passing moon, the extra mass throws my calculations off, and … well, it's getting boring." The pilot certainly looked tired, nursing a cup of very strong coffee at the kitchen table.

"Could always dump it," Jayne, ever the pragmatist, suggested.

"Can't do that." Mal crossed his arms. "Got us a payday waiting."

"Badger." For a big man the ex-merc could get a lot of bile behind a single word.

"Badger," Mal confirmed. "Although I'm beginning to think maybe we should bury him under it."

Simon, sitting on one chair, his leg resting on another, nodded in agreement. "I'll help."

"Can't," River said, drifting past on her way to check the bridge controls. "Might need it."

Mal looked up sharply. "What's that, albatross?"

She didn't answer, just patted Hank on the shoulder, saying, "Get some sleep. I'll look after things." With that she was gone.

"You know," Mal said musingly, "sometimes I wonder if there's anyone real on board this boat 'cept me. Maybe I'm hallucinatin' the rest of you."

Hank put his forehead on the old wood. "If you are, can I join you?"

"Not sure." Mal looked at Simon. "Can hallucinations hallucinate?"

The doctor shrugged. "I wouldn't dare to give an opinion. Seeing as I'm one as well."

"Maybe I should ask your sis."

"She's just having an untied day," Jayne said, picking at his teeth with one fingernail.

"Untied. Good word."

"She's worrying about the others," Simon said.

"I know." Mal gave a half-smile. "So the sooner we get to Persephone the better." He turned back to Hank. "What's our current ETA?"

The only answer was a light snore from an apparently comatose pilot.

_**Empress of Sihnon – Glacier …**_

Beautiful, but cold. The heated hovers hired for the day kept everyone toasty warm, and allowed them to enjoy the bright white snowfields, intricate houses carved from sheer blue ice, and the huge fire burning day and night from the volcanic gases.

The bravest ventured out, well-wrapped against the chill, to ride the frozen falls that gave the planet its name, sliding down the ice runs in huge toboggans built for a dozen souls.

"Whoo-ee!" Kaylee said, stepping inside the local wine-hall and shaking the snow from her boots. "You shoulda come."

The two women sitting by the enormous log fire looked up.

"With my shoulder?" Zoe shook her head, her hands wrapped around a mug of something that steamed fragrantly. "I think Hank'd disapprove."

"You don't know what you missed."

"Next time."

"Where are Frey and the girls?" Inara asked, looking past her through the thick glass door to where the dipping sun was making the snow glitter in a rainbow of colours.

"Phoebe and Joy wanted to go again, so Frey said she'd take them. I think Val and Flynn're waiting for 'em at the bottom."

"Really?"

Kaylee shrugged. "I kinda think they're arguing."

Inara didn't bother to hide the smile. "About what?"

"Not too sure, but Val seemed to be giving Flynn a piece of her mind about something or other, and he was looking fit to bust."

Zoe grunted slightly. "It's possible we may not have to make up our minds about Flynn," she said, inhaling the scent of herbs from her drink and feeling it cleansing her sinuses. "He may not survive long enough."

"Aw, Val ain't gonna hurt him." Kaylee tossed her heavy coat towards the pile by the door, and signalled for another drink. "Much."

The other women laughed.

_**Serenity …**_

"Hey, big feller." Mal smiled at Ben seated at the table, sucking loudly on the end of a pencil and staring at his notebook, for once not in the company of Hope or any of the other children.

"Uncle Mal." Ben glanced up quickly and smiled, but his coffee-coloured face went straight back to being serious as he looked down at the page in front of him.

"Homework?"

"Mmn." The little boy sighed. "I don't understand it."

"Want me to take a look with you?"

"'Kay."

Mal pulled a chair up close and sat down. "Okay, what're you working on?"

"Sums." Ben sighed again.

Mal nodded, knowing Freya had left some work for them to do, and that she liked to push them a little, particularly if they seemed to have an aptitude, which Ben did. "Let's take a look." There was a pause. "Huh."

"Yeah."

"I gather this ain't your Auntie Frey's."

"No."

"Auntie River?"

"Mmn."

"I'll have a word."

"Thanks, Uncle Mal."

_**Empress of Sihnon – Daedalus …**_

"Do you think they'd notice if I kinda slipped one into my pocket?" Joy asked quietly. Yet again her parents had decided not to take advantage of the trip off-ship, preferring to remain on board the Empress and rest.

Personally Inara wondered that while they loved their daughter dearly, they found her a little tiring, and since someone else was prepared to keep an eye on her, they were taking advantage of the opportunity for a little time together. Alone.

Inara trod quickly on the thought that drifted across her mind that she'd quite like that herself, and smiled at the young woman. "I think they probably would." She could vaguely hear the guide ahead talking about how the diamond veins on Daedalus were first discovered, and that the tunnel they were traversing was the newest in a series of excavations.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Joy sighed. "Be kinda nice, though, wouldn't it? To have lots of pretties." She sounded wistful as her hand strayed to a lump of crystal in the wall, but didn't touch.

"It's all right," Inara admitted. "But they don't mean much. They don't keep you warm at night."

"You mean like a man?"

"That's ... one of them, yes."

"My Ma says men ain't to be trusted."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Then she gives my Pa one of them looks, and they don't talk for a while."

"Ah." Inara didn't say it, but she had an idea what that meant.

"Not that I've ever met a feller I wanted to be with for the rest of my life," Joy went on, skirting the issue of her father's possible infidelity.

"There's plenty of time."

"Oh, I know." The girl grinned suddenly. "And I'm having way too much fun to settle down." They moved on, not wanting to get too far from the main group. "And there's other people to talk about, anyway."

"Other people?"

"I've been doing a little research."

"Being nosy, you mean."

Joy wasn't phased. "Pretty much." She laughed. "Like about the woman in the Presidential Suite. Nobody's seen her, or knows anything about her, 'cept her name. Madam Reynolds."

Inara's eyebrows went up. "Reynolds?"

"I know. I kinda thought that was odd myself. Think she's related to your Ms Reynolds?"

"Freya? I doubt it. I don't think there's any money in that family."

"And there'd have to be. Heard tell those rooms cost more'n the rest put together." She leaned over conspiratorially. "And she's pregnant."

"That's nice for her." Inara couldn't help the slight pang of disappointment, telling herself there was plenty of time for that too, only she wasn't sure she was listening.

"Pretty far gone, from what I've heard." Joy stopped to admire another rough diamond. "I've heard she's some bigwig in the Alliance, 'cepting she'd be travelling by cruiser if that were the case. Or that she was a criminal on the run. You know, hiding in plain sight. Somebody else said she was the wife of a rich man goin' home to have his baby." She shrugged. "Not like we can go up to the door and knock."

"No. And don't even consider letting yourself be tempted."

Joy giggled. "As if I would."

"As if you wouldn't."

"Well, maybe," she admitted. "But it's the same with the fellers in the Premier Suite. Three of 'em, and not one's stuck his head out since they got on board." She glanced around. "You think they're sly?"

"If they are, that's up to them."

"Oh, I know. And I wasn't saying anything against it. I got no problems with guys liking other guys, 'less they take the good-looking ones."

One of the Reilly twins jogged towards them, her face a little pink. "Aunt 'Nara, the man says you have to stay with us, else you might get lost."

"Thank you, Phoebe. But remember, young ladies don't run."

"Then how do they get where they want to go?" Phoebe asked, but it was with a knowing look in her eye. She knew exactly how to behave, but chose not to.

"I think we might have a little update on deportment, don't you?"

"Whatever." She grabbed Joy's hand. "C'mon," she said. "I think Val and Flynn might just start spitting at each other."

"Are they still arguing?" Inara asked, a sigh in her voice.

"Oh, only all the time." Phoebe tugged her new friend along. "Don't want to miss the fireworks."

They ran ahead, regardless of being ladies, young or otherwise, while Inara kept up the deceptively fast walk, her mind on the matter of Flynn Youngblood. Honestly, the way he was going, they'd need the other bodyguard Freya had waved Dillon about.

And that was another thing. Madam Reynolds? Just who was she? She'd been honest when she said there was no money in that family, but she allowed a small smile to play across her lips as she entertained herself with the thought that perhaps this was a rich relative of Mal's, and the look on the woman's face when she found out she was kin to a thief and reprobate …

_**Serenity …**_

"Just there," Bethie said, squatting on her heels and peering under the main board.

"Here?" Hank, lying on Kaylee's wheeled trolley, felt around, then yelped as a spark met his finger. He pulled it back, sucking loudly on it. "_Da-shiong bao-jah-shr duh la doo-tze_," he swore, somewhat indistinctly.

"That's it." She wasn't at all worried about his cursing, having heard a lot worse in her few years.

"You know, I ain't a mechanic," he said, examining his fingertip.

"Do you want me to do it?"

Hank looked up at her. "Nope, that's okay. Not having you put your hand into something. You might not get it all back."

Bethie giggled, then got back to business. "You need the no. 7 power relay converter, the Humboldt shears, and a new interlocker." She thought for a moment. "That's it."

"You know, I didn't realise just how much your Ma does to keep us flying."

Bethie nodded, her brightness subdued a little. "I know. Momma says Uncle Mal would've crashed years ago without her."

"I reckon he's right."

"I miss Momma."

Hank sat up and pulled her onto his lap. "Me too. And Zoe."

"Do you think they're having a good time?"

"Prob'ly."

"Not thinking about us?"

"Not a bit."

"Uncle Hank, you're not a good liar."

"I know. I figure it's one of the things your Auntie Zoe loves about me."

"She loves how you like to –"

Hank held up a finger, coincidentally the one that had come into contact with the live wire. "Now, what did we say about talking about … things like that?"

"Not to?"

"Exactly." He shook his head. "You know, you're getting more and more like your Auntie River every day."

"You say that like it's a bad thing." The woman in question stepped over the sill onto the bridge.

"Did I?" He grinned at her. "Must have been the electricity coursing through my nerve endings, made my mouth run off."

"Hmmn." She put down the items she was carrying. "Perhaps you'd better let me do it, then."

He glanced at them – a no. 7 power relay converter, the Humboldt shears, and … "A new interlocker?"

"Yes. Move."

_**Empress of Sihnon – Shadow …**_

Freya looked out of the great observation window in the Maritime Room, watching a planet slip by.

"Penny for them."

She glanced up. "Dr Barkin."

"Ma'am." He indicated the seat opposite her. "May I?"

"She's not here."

Barkin smiled. "If you're referring to Mrs Mills, I think I noticed." He sat down, taking her non-refusal for acceptance. He looked out at the planet, half its surface lit, the rest in darkness. "It looks very peaceful."

"Yes."

"And yet they say nobody can live there anymore."

"That's not quite true," Freya commented. "The major continent, no. Too much damage. But people scratch a living elsewhere."

He looked surprised. "You've been there?"

"A couple of times." She could see the question in his eyes. "My husband comes from there. At least, that's where he was born."

"I see." He didn't really, and she wasn't about to enlighten him.

"So were you just walking through, or did you want something?" she asked, raising her eyebrows at him.

Barkin had to laugh. "All right, you got me. I was wondering where your friend was."

"Zoe."

"Yes."

"She's married."

"So?"

"Married." This time it was with heavier emphasis.

Barkin's lips twisted. "It's only a game, Mrs Reynolds."

"A game that might end up hurting someone."

"Not me."

"No. I think you've probably played it too often for that."

He seemed surprised. "I have to have something to do. These trips can be deathly dull."

"Then try your luck elsewhere. Zoe's too good a woman to be trifled with."

"She's very beautiful."

"And taken."

This time Barkin laughed. "You should hear her moan when I work on her shoulder. It's very erotic."

Freya sat back and contemplated him. "You know, what I said about you not getting hurt … I don't think that was quite true. You try anything with Zoe, and you're the one who's going to need a doctor."

He stood up. "And that might be fun too."

She watched him amble off, whistling some popular tune under his breath.

Something about him made her uneasy, but it was probably just the fact that he obviously intended continuing his pursuit of Zoe, despite being warned off. Still, Serenity's first mate was more than capable of defending herself, even with one arm out of action. Hell, even with both hands tied behind her back.

Maybe she was missing Mal. It was all very fine and dandy, being able to have conversations with him whenever she wanted, but it was getting harder, and she still woke up to a cold pillow next to her.

She sighed, and the sound had a waiter appear at her elbow. She waved him away, half her mind still on Dr Barkin. It wouldn't hurt to keep an eye on him, she decided. Not for Zoe's sake, but just to keep her sleep easy. Besides, as Mal always said, a little paranoia could be a healthy thing.

_**Serenity …**_

"I want my Mama." Ethan crossed his little arms and glared at his father, refusing to come any further into the infirmary.

"Now you know that ain't gonna happen, not quite yet. Few more days and we'll be at Persephone, and you can crawl into her arms as much as you like, and I'll be pretty much joining you. But right now, you gotta let the doc do what he needs to."

Simon rested on the stool, wondering if he was going to have confrontations like this one with his own son, and finding himself almost looking forward to it. He idly rubbed at his thigh, idly speculating on if they'd notice if he scratched the healing wound.

"Don't want to."

"Why not? It ain't like it's the first time." Mal was being surprisingly reasonable.

"Mama makes it not hurt."

"It hurts?" He went down onto his heels in front of his son.

"'Es."

"It might," Simon agreed quietly. "The wire is very fine, but …"

Mal turned enough so he could look at the young man. "What does she do?"

"Sings. Talks. Takes his mind off it."

"How come she's never told me?"

"Probably didn't want to worry you."

"Okay." Mal thought for a moment. "How about I tell you a story?"

Ethan didn't look convinced. "'Bout dinosaurs?"

"Maybe."

"With all the noises."

"I suppose I could –"

"I'll get them!" The little boy was out of the infirmary like a shot and running up towards the bridge.

Mal stood slowly and turned to Simon. "Do you have to do it now?"

"It's the last time," the doctor assured him. "But I need these final readings to make sure I have a solid baseline in case anything ever goes wrong with his pacemaker."

"It ain't likely to, is it?" Mal asked, unable to keep the image of his baby son lying on the medbed, his skin cherry red, his heart in freefall because of Minuet's.

"No. Everything's been within normal parameters, but after that EMP hit we took a couple of months ago, I just wanted to be careful."

"And I appreciate it. I know I don't always show it, but I do. And I know Frey does, too."

Simon felt a slight embarrassment at Mal's honesty. "You're my patients, Mal. And my family."

"Seems like there's a few doctors don't think like that."

"Perhaps. And perhaps you're lucky I decided to take this ship rather than the Brutus."

Mal couldn't help smiling. "I always thought that was 'cause you fell in love with the barker."

"I refuse to comment."

"Got them!" Ethan announced, stepping back into the infirmary and holding up the stegosaurus and the T-Rex. He eyed the medbed warily.

"Okay, then. Come on."

"Still don't want to."

"I know." Mal lifted him onto his hip. "And I wish it were your Momma making it better for you, but you'll have to make do with me." He brushed his hair from his eyes. "And I'm sorry. I didn't know."

Ethan handed him the yellow dinosaur. "S'okay." He watched Simon limp across with a tray containing the fine wire, a hypo filled with a local anaesthetic and the handheld scanner, and he deliberately looked away.

"Okay," Mal said quickly, hitching up onto the medbed so Simon could get at the tiny cannula he'd put between Ethan's ribs. "So, what's this one's name?" he asked.

"Steve."

"Steve. Good name. What does Steve like to eat?" As he talked, he kept his eyes on Ethan's face, trying to ignore what Simon was doing, just helping his son as much as possible by sending calming thoughts, much as he thought Freya would do. As he did so, he began to realise just how much Freya did to keep things running smoothly, to make his life – and that of his family – as easy as possible.

_**Empress of Sihnon – between systems …**_

Inara tossed. First one way, then the other, until the bedclothes were wrapped around her legs and the sheet beneath her was little more than a twisted rope.

She'd woken from a dream of Lazarus, sitting in one of the wrought iron chairs in the orchard, the sun warming her skin. Something was nuzzling at her, and when she looked down she could see it was a baby, very young, probably newborn, pushing at her naked breast as it fed. As _he_ fed. She knew it was a boy without looking, just as she knew the father was Sam, although the olive tint to the baby's complexion was further proof.

A wave of joy seeped through her, knowing this was her child, fruit of her body, testimony to her love, and she held him close, feeling a completion she'd never known in all her years as a Companion. So when the dream slipped away from her, and she woke up with her arms empty, she had allowed herself more than a handful of tears before attempting to go off again.

In vain. Eventually she sat up, staring into the darkness.

"This is ridiculous," she said.

Switching on the light, she untangled herself from the blankets and stood up, crossing to the mirrored table. A moment's perusal persuaded her that there was no external evidence from her crying, but just to be sure she ran the applicator over her powder, anointing her cheekbones and jawline, before dragging a brush through her heavy dark hair. Hmmn. She'd do.

She dressed quickly in loose black silk pants and a black and gold top, the least ostentatious of the clothes she'd brought with her, before slipping into a pair of low-heeled black sandals. One final glance in the mirror and she was almost satisfied.

Opening the door into the main lounge as quietly as possible, she stepped through, noting the Cortex still on. A faint noise reached her ears above the sound of the news programme playing. Crossing to the large sofa she looked down, and had to smile.

Freya had fallen asleep, probably watching one of the soaps that were her guilty pleasure, her head resting on her pillowed arms, snoring very slightly. There was very likely going to be a damp patch on the expensive brocade cushion before long.

Heading for the suite door, she wasn't all that surprised to hear Freya's voice behind her.

"Are you okay?"

Inara turned. She should have known the other woman would have heard, no matter how quiet she was. "I'm fine. Go back to sleep," she whispered.

"Why are you up?" Freya struggled to sit up.

"I can't sleep. I thought I'd go for a walk."

"Want some company?"

"No. Go back to sleep."

"If you're sure."

"I'm sure."

"Bring back some snacks." Freya snuggled back down, asleep again almost immediately.

Inara smiled again, slipping out into the corridor and closing the door silently. She started to explore, letting her feet take her where they will.

The halls were quiet except for the occasional steward, and she had to keep letting them know that yes, she was fine, no, she didn't want anything, yes, she knew there was food available throughout the night, yes, she knew where it was, and no, she was happy to walk unescorted.

After the fifth such encounter, she had the wild notion to go to one of the several gyms on board, and work off the wakefulness, but with her luck there would be a personal trainer still on duty, who would make her do far more than she anticipated. So it was with very little regret that she turned into the Starlight Lounge, accepting a beautifully made individual pot of coffee and an exquisite pastry, before sitting at a table and staring out into the black.

There were only two other couples in the large room, but neither was admiring the scenery. One pair was very young and obviously in love, so wrapped up in each other a gun could have gone off and they wouldn't even have twitched.

The other couple were older, the man balding, shoulders stooped, the woman grey-haired and comfortable looking. They smiled and nodded at her before going back to chatting quietly, heads close. It was only when she looked again that she realised they were holding hands. It was odd, but Inara realised it was the gentle intimacy between them rather than the young couple that was the most reassuring. _That's how I want us to be_, she thought. _Sam and me. Growing old gracefully together. Or possibly disgracefully._ She hid a grin in the coffee cup, taking a sip of the fragrant liquid, staring out at the hard pinpricks spread across the infinite.

Mal always said it soothed him, sitting on the bridge and looking out at the stars, knowing it was always there, barely changing from decade to decade, the outward show of what he called freedom. For as long as she'd known him, he'd never shirked taking his turn on watch, often joined by River, and later by Freya, just sitting companionably, only thoughts being shared. This, perhaps, more than anything, had marked a sea-change in the man, the ability he now had to let the all too often present anger drift away from him, and just … be. No wonder she'd loved him.

Thinking of Mal made her remember Freya's request.

She lifted a hand and a waiter appeared as if by magic.

"Could I have a selection of the pastries?" she asked.

"Of course, Madam." Probably nothing phased him, certainly not being asked by a beautiful woman for cakes at this time of night. "Would you like me to have it delivered to your suite?"

"No, no. Just enough for a plate. I'll take it with me."

He inclined his head just once, and nodded to the serving man, who set about choosing the most succulent of delicacies, laying them thickly on a small platter.

"Madam?"

"That's lovely. Thank you." Inara gave him one of her most seductive smiles, and he blushed.

She really shouldn't, she knew. It wasn't fair. But occasionally, just once in a while, it was nice to see she still had the touch, the ability to make a man weak at the knees. Oh, she did it with Sam too, but his knees were affected because he loved her. So she tried it, sometimes, to keep her hand in.

Carrying the tray out of the Lounge, she wandered along the corridor, her thoughts on her lover, wondering what he was doing, perhaps thinking of her. They'd had a conversation only the day before, but on an open Cortex link they felt the need to be circumspect, so their words were somewhat stilted, just in case anyone was listening in. Not for the first time she felt jealous of Freya's talent, able to talk to Mal and say what she wanted, sure nobody was eavesdropping. Except perhaps River. Or Bethie, whose education was far in advance of her years.

Ah. That was awkward. This corridor didn't look anything like the ones she'd come down. She looked up and down, searching for one of the many information boards. No, wait. That was … yes, the Presidential Suite. So she'd missed her turning, that was all. Laughing a little in relief, she went back the way she'd come, glancing down at the plate in her hands. Damn, there was a gap. She must have dropped one.

"_Gos se_," she whispered, looking back. Ah, there it was. Right outside the Presidential Suite. Hurrying back she went down elegantly onto her heels, picking it up with two fingers and laying it back on the plate. She'd make sure that one went into the bin before anyone had the chance to …

The door next to her opened.

"I just want to walk," a woman's voice said. "I keep telling you, I don't need anyone to come with me. Oh, sorry."

Inara looked up, seeing first the flat sandals, the cream dress to mid-calf, then the bulge of late pregnancy at an otherwise slim waist, then up, past a well-endowed chest to … Her mouth dropped open and she almost fell back. "Saffron?"

There was a pause.

"_Diyu_," the red head swore.


	15. Chapter 15

Saffron grabbed Inara's arm and pulled her inside the suite. "What are you doing here?" she hissed. She didn't wait for a response, just glared at the two men still fussing around her. "Go away."

"But Madam –"

The glared notched up a couple of levels. "I hardly think this woman is a threat to me, do you? Go find something else to do."

"Yes, Madam." They didn't look convinced but disappeared through a door to one side.

"Well?" Saffron went on, looking back at Inara. "What are you doing on board this ship?"

Inara had taken the few moments to compose herself, and just smiled slightly. "The same as yourself, I imagine. Taking a cruise. Unless you're on a job."

"I'm going home."

"Whose?"

"Mine."

Moving past her, Inara asked, "And where would that be? Just so I know not to go there."

"Bellerophon."

The ex-Companion successfully hid the shudder that wanted to course through her, the only outward sign of any distress a brief closing of her eyes. Bellerophon brought up too many bad memories, and she had to restrain herself from touching the almost invisible scar on her cheek. Instead she glanced down at the very prominent bump at the other woman's waistline, saying "Congratulations, by the way. On the baby."

"Thanks." Saffron collapsed into a very large, very squishy leather armchair that looked out of place amongst the ormolu and delicate tracery.

As far as Inara was concerned, the room might be obviously larger and more expensive, but it had a vulgarity her own didn't possess, full of golds and scarlet reds. "Who's the father?"

Saffron's eyes flashed, but she said, "Durren, of course."

Durren Haymer, the man who was quite possibly the first of Saffron's many husbands. "With you there's no 'of course' about it," Inara pointed out.

If looks could kill ... "Well, he is." Saffron tried to cross her arms testily, but her stomach got in the way and she had to content herself with clasping her hands tightly on top.

"Then why aren't you at home?" Inara nodded down. "You look almost to term."

"All bar a couple of weeks." Saffron sighed. "I couldn't sit there. Waiting."

From what Inara remembered of Bellerophon – at least that part she _allowed_ herself to remember – the floaty islands, as Mal had called them, were the ultimate in luxury, at least for the owners. "Hormones?"

"Probably." She hitched a footstool towards her with her heel and rested her feet on it. Glancing at the tray of pastries Inara still held, she added, "Any of those going spare?"

The ex-Companion looked surprised. "Oh. Yes, of course." She handed the platter across. "Enjoy."

Saffron balanced the plate on her belly and picked up a tiny cake, slipping it into her mouth and letting it melt on her tongue. She collapsed back a little. "Wow."

"Good, aren't they? The best I've found so far on board."

"I wouldn't know." The redhead quickly ate another, then a third. "Those two idiots Durren hired to look after me won't let me eat this sort of thing. It's not _healthy_." The last words were said in a tone that suggested she'd heard the phrase far too often.

"You're pregnant. You're allowed cravings."

"Huh." A couple of crumbs fell from her lips onto her breasts, and she brushed them away. "Not according to them. I should be eating salads, drinking lots of water and no alcohol, and sitting with my feet higher than my head."

"Mmn." Memories, even older than Bellerophon, stirred. Gregor. The child she'd been told was dead, but had been handed to another woman to bring up. And the months of discomfort coming to nothing, at least she had once thought.

"So I sneak out. When the ship's on its night cycle. There's always some place open with food. But I don't recall these." Saffron slipped another pastry into her mouth.

"Starlight Lounge."

"Oh. I didn't go in there – too many people."

Inara lowered herself onto a gold chaise longue. "Saffron … Yolanda …"

"Saffron'll do."

"Then Saffron … why are you calling yourself Madam Reynolds?" Inara had an image of the woman opposite trying to make trouble, making out Mal was somehow involved in her pregnancy.

The redhead shrugged, still eating. "It's just a name."

"Then why pick that one?"

"No reason."

"I'm only asking because, of the last two occasions you met, the first time you had Mal arrested, and the second almost had him killed. And he still saved your life."

"A fact I'm fully aware of." She looked uncomfortable, with more than just the pregnancy. "All right. Because he bested me. And nobody does that."

"So you respect him for it."

"Not the word I'd have used."

"If you're planning on trying to stir things up –"

"Why would I do that?"

"Habit."

A sullen look settled on Saffron's face. "Maybe I've thought about it."

"Then my advice is, don't. Freya won't take kindly to it. And since she's on board ..." Inara left the sentence, and the meaning, hanging.

Saffron struggled to sit up. "She is?"

"So's Zoe. And Kaylee. So you really don't want to start trouble, because any one of them would be more than happy to finish it for you, Erin."

This time the look was panic, quickly hidden but to Inara's trained eyes as obvious as lightning in a night sky. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Inara was impressed, nevertheless, at the confused innocence the other woman was able to lay on. "I think you do." She'd managed to find out just a little of Saffron's past, including her real name, at Freya's request when the redhead had accused Mal of bigamy and tried to get him framed for theft as well. "I'm sure you don't want it to be common knowledge."

"What do I care?" Saffron dropped the now empty platter onto the table next to her, crumbs scattering across the intricate carpet.

"With a father like yours, doing what you do ... I think you'd care immensely."

They locked gazes, neither wanting to give in, until Saffron sighed heavily.

"_Nee ta ma duh tyen-shia suo-yo duh num doh gai si_," she muttered.

Inara couldn't help but smile a little. "Is that the kind of language you want your child to hear?"

"You're one of those? The kind who think babies pick things up in the womb?" Saffron didn't quite sneer, but it was a close run thing.

Not wanting to say that she had it on good authority that Kaylee had played music to her own bump when nobody was watching, let alone River's thoughts on the subject Inara merely commented, "It's established medical fact."

Collapsing back onto the chair, Saffron sighed again. "Whatever. And no, I wasn't going to make trouble. Those two won't let me." She pointed to where the two men had disappeared. "I can't do a gorram thing without them being a step behind."

"So they're more than just nursemaids?"

"Bodyguards, in case of kidnap and the like. Durren insisted. That's why I had to travel under an assumed name. He said I couldn't go anywhere without them, and if I tried he'd send out half the Alliance to bring me back."

"He loves you." _Although I can't think why_, Inara added silently to herself.

"Seems like."

There was something in Saffron's tone that alerted Inara's professional interest. "Haven't that many men loved you? I thought –"

"Not love," Saffron interrupted. "Lust, mainly." She looked down at her ample figure. "When I didn't look like a balloon I was hot, and they were easy." Glancing up, she added, with just a hint of venom, "You know how that goes."

Inara didn't take it personally. "Not easy, Saffron. Gullible, perhaps, when they want to be."

"And I made them want it really badly." Now she smiled. "I was good. Very good."

For a moment Inara had a mental image of the woman in front of her standing hip deep in trash bags inside a rubbish container, old food in her hair, swearing because she couldn't find the Lassiter, but wisely didn't mention it. "Yes, you were. But now you're going to be a mother." Her eyes narrowed a trace. "How did that happen, by the way?"

Saffron let out an unexpected laugh. "If you've forgotten already ..."

"You know what I mean."

"I know." Saffron laid her head back on the leather. "Durren happened. After the incident on Borodin, I found him waiting for me on Boros."

"You mean the incident when you and Mal almost drowned because you were planning on robbing Tesler Bose's safe and pinning it on him."

She waved away the comment and stared into the painted ceiling. "That one, yes. Durren asked me to come back. To get my strength up. And he ..." She stopped.

"He wooed you."

"Something like that." She sat up, piercing Inara with a steely eye. "And you tell anyone I said it, and I'll kill you. But I wanted ... I wanted to rest."

"Had enough lying and cheating your way around the galaxy?"

"No. Never that. But sometimes the game just didn't make me feel alive like it used to." Saffron shook her head, almost bemused. "Like something was missing."

"Love."

"No. That's just playing parts." She put her head back, her right hand absently rubbing her stomach. "Anyway, I agreed. And we talked. A lot. Fought too. Well, I fought. Threw things, broke some stuff that I could have sold for several thousand credits ..." She made a tsk sound behind her teeth. "Anyway, I left a couple of times, and he didn't try to stop me. Just told me to come back when I was ready."

"He gave you permission to fleece people?"

"I suppose." She looked up again. "You know it isn't about the money. At least, not all of it."

"I know."

"Then the last time, right as I was about to separate a rancher from his cash, I started throwing up. Feeling sick all the time. I went to a doctor and ..." She gazed at her belly. "I could have killed Durren."

_And maybe you wanted it as much as him_, Inara thought, understanding all too well the way the subconscious would sometimes make decisions all on its own. "You could have gotten rid of it," she pointed out quietly. "Durren would never have had to know."

Saffron's hand stopped moving. "I thought about it. But somehow ..."

"Pregnancy changes you."

"It makes your ankles swell, I know that."

"Among other things. And I think you came to the conclusion you wanted this baby."

"Durren was over the moon," Saffron said, skirting the issue. "He said I could do anything I wanted as long as we raised the child together." Again there was that odd tone.

"You think he'll make a good father."

"Yes."

For the first time Inara felt Saffron had said the entire and utter truth in that one word, not painted over with illusion and lies. "Then I'm happy for you."

"Really?"

"Yes." She stood up. "And you'd better get some sleep, otherwise your tame terriers will be after you."

"I suppose." Saffron mangled a well-timed yawn then managed to lever herself to her feet, pulling her dress back into place as best she could. "Are you going to tell the others? About me?"

"I ... haven't decided."

"Whatever." She walked to the door, then paused in the act of turning the handle. "Could ... could you come back?"

"What?" Inara wouldn't have been more surprised if Saffron had taken out a gun and shot her. She pulled herself together. "Come back?"

"I don't have anyone to talk to. Those two idiots ..." She gestured towards the other room. "I know they're doing their best, but I need someone intelligent to have a proper conversation with."

"We'll only fight."

"That can be fun too." Saffron went to put her hand on Inara's arm, but dropped it before touching. "If you want to."

"Perhaps." All the years of training, the experiences she had gone through, and lately the advanced techniques Sam had taught her were saying that Saffron was scared, that under all the bluster and disregard for the rest of the 'verse was a woman who needed a friend. "When I can get away."

Saffron nodded, just a single jerk of her head, and pulled the door open. "And bring more of those cakes."

"I'll see what I can do."

As Inara made her way back towards her own suite, only the smallest amount of her mind was on where she was going. In her line of work, particularly during the time she'd spent on Serenity, she had come into contact with a whole range of people, from those who couldn't do more than scratch a living on a rock to others who could buy whole planets if they felt inclined. Temperamentally they were just as wide ranging.

Saffron was something of an enigma, though. All of Inara's common sense was telling her not to trust the redhead, to go and let Freya know she was on board, that some other plan might well be in force that they knew nothing about, and yet ...

And yet. That flash of fear had been real, she'd swear to it. She remembered something very like it herself during that last month, when she'd been grieving for Gregor, when the rest of the Training House had looked at her either in sympathy or outrage, The fear that she wouldn't know how to bring up a child, that she'd be useless as a mother. Not that she got the chance to find out, but at least Colm was happy, cared for by Domina on Greenleaf. It made it easier. A little.

She knew it now, of course, as well. Fear that she and Sam would never have a child of their own, that she wasn't capable of carrying a second baby to term, no matter what Simon said.

Which explained the jealousy too. She wanted it to be her with the swollen ankles, the cravings, the nausea.

_No. Stop that_. As she rounded the end of the corridor and walked towards the door to her suite, she shook herself mentally. _Inara, you will have another baby. You and Sam. It might take a while, but it will happen. It can't not._

She put out her hand, but her fingers were trembling. Closing her eyes, she used one of the techniques learned so long ago back in the House, centring herself, drawing every little piece back inside, putting it into place until only a tiny crack showed. Then she let herself into the suite.

Freya must have woken up enough to get to bed, because the sofa was empty and the Cortex switched off.

Inara sighed. It gave her more time to consider what she was going to do, but in all honesty she knew. At least for the time being, she wasn't going to tell the others. In less than a week they'd be off the Empress and back to their lives, and Saffron would be gone. But at least until then, maybe she could help. Not show her the error of her ways – that would take a lifetime and quite possibly a number of Jayne's grenades – but at least to ease her mind a little. After all, that's what she did for a living now.

And Freya wouldn't look. Not intentionally. And if she did, then Inara would explain. Slowly, with words of only one syllable. Probably ducking all the time.

She yawned, tiredness suddenly overtaking her. Yes. Time for bed. Time to sleep and dream of babies in her arms, and Sam standing over her, such a proud look on his face ...

* * *

"She had company tonight."

"Who?"

"A woman. A looker. Wouldn't throw her out of bed."

"Is she going to be a problem?"

"I don't think so."

"Hmmn."

"What's going through that head of yours?"

"This job's worth a lot of money. I don't want anything to go wrong."

"It was one woman. What could she do to put a spanner in the works?"

"Let's just say something's tickling the back of my neck right now."

"You want me to keep an eye on her?"

"Yeah. See who she's travelling with. We might need to take care of them before we do the job."

"We've got a few days."

"And I want to be ready. Tell your brother to stay watching, and to report back anything else."

"Okay, Chester."


	16. Chapter 16

"I need your advice." Simon stepped carefully down the stairs to the floor of the cargo bay, holding onto the handrail and easing his leg as much as possible. Mal and Hank were standing by the rock-filled containers and discussing if there was any way they could increase their speed without tossing it out of the airlock, while Jayne was lifting weights, his rhythmical movements almost hypnotic, echoed by Bethie on her little bench, and Ethan on his. This last was a new addition to the bay, and it still made the crew smile to see the three of them working out together.

When Jayne had unveiled it, to the boy's wonder and delight, Mal had turned slightly to Zoe, his lips barely moving. "I see a day coming when there's a whole row of these things, and each of the kids has their own."

"I'll have the capture ready, sir."

This time, though, he merely asked, "Whose advice?"

"Everyone's. Anyone's." Simon glanced down at the baby in the sling across his chest. "I don't know what to do about Noah's sweater."

Jayne sat up, picking up a towel. "What about it? It works, don't it?" He wiped his face and neck.

Bethie and Ethan did the same, following their Uncle exactly.

"I'm not saying it doesn't. And with Kaylee gone I wouldn't be able to get any work done without it. But ..."

Mal perched on a wooden crate. "But what, doc?"

"Well, we've been using it for a little while now, and it's ... well ..." Simon looked a little abashed.

Jayne got to his feet and ambled over. He leaned down and took a deep sniff. "Oh, I get yah. It's pretty ripe." His brow creased. "Unless that's –"

"He's just been changed."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Only he's kinda –"

"It's the sweater!"

The big man shrugged. "Then I'm seeing your problem."

Hank chuckled. "This from the man who never used to willingly change his underwear."

Jayne tossed him a glance. "Don't hardly wear any."

The pilot grimaced. "Please. Way, way too much information."

"And you know Zoe ain't here to defend you, little man."

"I'm not that little."

"You could be."

"Uncle Jayne." Bethie had stood up and was now facing the big man. "That's not nice."

He looked down at her. "Ain't I ever gonna get away with nothing no more?"

She put her hands on her hips. "No."

"Gorramit." But he smiled and swung her up to stand on one of the crates. "Sorry, short stub."

"That's okay." She leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

"Rather you than me," Hank muttered.

Jayne glared at him over Bethie's shoulder and opened his mouth yet again.

"Solomon." River's voice cut through the promising argument.

They all looked up to where she stood on the top catwalk, leaning on the railing, her hair falling forward over her face.

"What was that, albatross?" Mal asked, smiling at her.

"Solomon was confronted one day with two women, both claiming to be a baby boy's mother. Neither would back down, so Solomon declared the child should be cut in half, and each have one portion. The true mother, appalled at the possible death of her beloved baby, said the other woman could have him, just so long as the boy wasn't harmed. Solomon understood, and gave the child back to his real mother."

There was a moment's silence, then Simon said, "I'm not cutting my son in half, _mei-mei_."

"I conjure she doesn't mean that," Mal said, the smile still twitching his lips. "I figure she was suggesting you cut Noah's sweater in two, and wash one half. See if it's the feel of the wool or the smell. And if it's the latter, you can wean David off it gradually."

"Solomon," River repeated, nodding at him as if he'd got a great problem solved exactly right.

"'Xactly."

"Oh." Simon turned just the palest of pinks. "I must be more tired than I thought."

"Well, getting shot and looking after a baby … takes it out of a man."

"You should know," Hank added unwisely. "How many times did you get injured while Ethan and Jesse were still …" He stopped. "Right. No Zoe."

"Besides, you're not the only ones arguing." River sat down on the top step, holding out her arms so Caleb could walk towards her, mouthing the couple of teeth he'd managed to acquire on his toy horse.

"Oh?" Mal perked up his ears. "So who else is?"

She smiled enigmatically.

* * *

"You are unbelievable!"

"And you think you are?"

"You're so high and mighty – you think you know everything!"

"Like you don't pretend to be. Big tough man, except you hide behind that gun!"

"I don't hide!"

"You never take the gorram thing off!"

"Because I'm working!"

"Is that what you call it?"

Freya could hear the raised voices from halfway down the corridor, and she glanced at Zoe. "Oh oh."

"You can say that again," the first mate agreed.

They hurried to their suite, throwing the door open.

"What the hell's going on?" Freya demanded.

Not that either of the two people standing in the middle of the room took any notice. Almost nose to nose, Valentia Reilly and Flynn Youngblood were glaring at each other, spitting words into each other's faces.

"I don't see you earning a living," Flynn was saying, looking her up and down. "Although I don't know what you could do. Apart from on your back."

She slapped him. Hard. "_Si gui_."

He ignored the cherry red hand print on his cheek. "Does Mal know you talk like that?"

"Enough!" Freya's voice fractured the anger around them, and they looked at her in surprise. Even Zoe felt her backbone trying to straighten, wanting to stand to attention, and understood why. Freya hardly ever used that tone, but it was one her subordinates knew during the war, when she was their lieutenant and she needed something done there and then.

Val went almost as pink as the mark on Flynn's face. "Aunt Frey."

Flynn took a step backwards. "Oh."

"Oh indeed." Freya stalked towards them. She pointed at Val. "You, go to your room. I'll be along in a minute." Her ice-hot gaze turned on Flynn. "You wait here. Zoe's going to have a word with you."

"I am?" Zoe's eyebrows lifted.

"You are."

"Shiny." Her physio session with Dr Barkin had been painful, particularly as he'd insisted on flirting all the way through, so she was felt a righteous looking forward to chewing someone out.

"Aunt Frey –" Val began, then saw the look in her eyes. "Yes, Aunt Frey," she ended meekly, walking away, her head down.

Flynn coughed. "Frey, I don't think –"

"No, I don't suppose you did." She glared at him. "Where are the others?"

"What?"

"The others. Phoebe, Kaylee and Inara."

"Oh. I think they're shopping."

"Good. I wouldn't want them to see the way you've been behaving." _Although I have the feeling Phoebe would be a more than willing spectator_, she added to herself. Glancing at Zoe, who nodded slightly, she followed Val.

For a long moment there was silence, then Zoe crossed to one of the sofas, lowering herself gently into it, favouring her arm a little.

"Are you okay?" Flynn found himself asking before he could stop.

"I'm fine. Just a little uncomfortable."

"Can I get you anything?"

Zoe's lips twitched, an almost nothing movement. "No. But thanks." She looked him up and down. "So you called Val a whore."

Flynn's jaw dropped. "I did no such thing!"

"Sure sounded like it to me."

"I …" His mind raced back over what they'd been saying, and a tinge of pink ran quickly across his cheeks. "I didn't mean that."

"So what did you mean?"

"I … we were just arguing."

"Just arguing. From the sound of it, if Frey and I hadn't come in that moment, you'd've come to blows."

"No!"

"Val already hit you." She leaned back and crossed one leg over her knee, staring at his cheek where the redness hadn't quite faded. "Quite rightly, too, from what I heard."

"She annoys me!" The words were out before he could drag them back, much worse than asking if Zoe was okay.

"Annoys you."

"With her high and mighty ways. Always acting like she knows everything, and more than willing to tell me when I'm wrong." He began to pace. "Sometimes I can hardly get a word in edgeways."

"You're a bodyguard. Should you be talking to your client?"

He stopped, turned on her. "So I should let her goad me?"

"Yes."

"Zoe –"

"She's paying for your services. Not me. Not Frey. Val. So whatever she thinks, however she treats you, is up to her, don't you think?"

"She treats me like I'm something she walked in on her shoe!"

"Then stop behaving like it and maybe she won't." Zoe sighed. "You're a grown man. You've done this kind of job before. Why are you letting a girl get to you?"

His face set into a sullen expression. "I'm not."

"No?"

He didn't respond, just crossed his arms and tightened his lips.

* * *

In Val's room, the conversation wasn't any easier.

"He thinks he's Buddha's gift!"

Freya had made her sit down on the bed, but it was only an arm around her shoulders that stopped the girl from getting to her feet and wearing a hole in the carpet.

"What else has he said?"

"He keeps telling me I'm stupid. That I don't know anything, seen anything." Val scoffed. "I couldn't live with my father without having seen too much sometimes."

It took Freya a fraction of a second to remember she was talking about Reilly, her natural father, and not Mal. "That wasn't nice of him."

"I didn't let him get away with it."

"No, I don't expect you did."

A certain tone in Freya's voice had the girl looking up sharply. "He's not even as fast on the draw as Uncle Jayne, let alone Uncle Mal."

"And how do you know that? Considering he's not supposed to carry guns on board."

Val coloured a little. "I made him show me. Down on the firing range on one of the lower levels."

"When was this?"

"A few days ago." She glanced down at her hands.

Ah. About the time the arguing got much, much worse. "And you told him as much."

"I might have mentioned I didn't think he was very good." She looked up, two bright red spots in her cheeks. "He thinks he's so grown up, so … so _bad_."

"Oh, Val. This is what he does for a living."

"What?"

"It's his job. Oh, he's not doing it very well at the moment, I'll grant you, but … what if someone tried to kidnap you?"

"I don't –"

"And he told you to run, or get down, or stay quiet, and all you did was argue?"

"I wouldn't!"

"You can promise me that, can you?"

Val opened and closed her mouth, then much quieter said, "No, Aunt Frey."

"It's his job to keep you safe, especially when me and your other aunts aren't around anymore, and if that isn't going to happen then you know what your Uncle Mal's going to say."

Sighing heavily, Val nodded. "That we can't continue on the cruise, and he'll make us go home to Lazarus."

"Well, he'll do his damndest to persuade you. Both you and Phoebe are of age and can do what you like, but he'd take it hard if you disobeyed him over this."

"But Flynn ..."

Freya squeezed her shoulder. "Dillon's looking for someone else anyway. I can wave him, ask him to look for two someone elses, to take over when we get to Persephone."

For a moment an odd look crossed Val's face. "You mean you'd fire Flynn?"

"I'd have to. If you won't behave. He can't take care of you if all he's thinking about is the next snappy comeback."

"Huh. He couldn't make a snappy comeback if it leapt up and bit him."

"Val."

The girl shrank into herself a little. "Sorry. But it's not fair if I can't tell him what I think of him."

"Then we find a replacement."

"But –"

"Val, it's up to you. There's nearly a week until we need to make a decision. Try and ... well, try and use some of that deportment Inara taught you. Gorramit, she tried to make you into ladies, didn't she?"

Val smiled a little. "I don't know Phoebe took to it that well."

"Maybe not, but I know you did. So act like one."

For a moment there was silence, then Val nodded. "Yes, Aunt Frey."

Heading back to the main salon to tell Zoe that the crisis had at least been delayed if not averted, Freya couldn't help but wonder just what was going to happen next.


	17. Chapter 17

The first time she found her way down there, they thought she was lost. They very kindly offered to show her the way back to the main corridor, but she surprised them.

"That's a uranium accelerator core, ain't it?" Kaylee had asked. "One of the latest ones. It sure is shiny." She gazed at it, her eyes wide.

Chief Engineer Bryden Cho couldn't help but smile. "You like engines?"

Kaylee coloured a little. "It's what I do." She'd explained, a little diffidently.

Cho chuckled. "Then it's nice for us to have visitors." He could see his subordinates nodding. "Mostly folks don't want to see the workings. They prefer to think things happen by a kinda magic."

"Oh, I know what you mean." Kaylee grinned back at the grizzled man, probably as old as her father, and with more than a passing resemblance too, apart from his slightly almond eyes. "I can talk 'til I'm blue in the face, but most of my crew don't take in more'n one word in ten. If that."

"Not meant to," Cho said stoutly. "That's for us to know, and them to marvel at."

Kaylee laughed, delighted to be included in the 'us' part. "Captain dummy talk," she said.

"Oh, that's the truth." Cho had twinkled at her.

From that point it was as if she was their favourite niece, or at least a good friend of the family, and they looked forward to her popping in whenever she felt she could get away from the others.

"Does she speak to you?" she'd asked at one point.

Cho nodded. "Tells me what she needs, when she needs it." He looked at her shrewdly. "I'm guessing you've got the gift too, Miss Kaylee."

She shrugged. "Serenity's my girl. We're like a partnership, each depending on the other, and neither of us is gonna let the other down."

"It only seems to come to the best of us, that gift."

She preened.

That morning, though, it was a brief visit.

"Can't stay long," Kaylee said regretfully. "We're heading down to Ling Miao."

Cho made a sound that resembled an elephant she'd seen once in a zoo on Greenleaf, then shuddered a little. "Sorry, Ms Kaylee. But that place gives me the willies."

"I know what you mean. But don't you ever want to see the sights?"

He shook his head. "Nah. I've been doing this route for too long. At first, maybe for a couple of trips, I'd cadge a lift down, go take a look, but once you've seen it, there ain't much to worry about."

"I suppose. But it's all included, and I want to get my money's worth."

He grinned. "That why you come down here?"

"Oh, no. I come down here because I love engines."

He stroked his chin. "Say, would you like to see the converters? I don't normally let anyone back there, but you're the first young lady I've ever known take an interest, let alone know what I'm talking about."

Kaylee danced from one foot to the other. "Converters? Dual backburners or –"

"Quads."

If anything her eyes widened even more. "Ooh, lead me to 'em!"

"Chief, we're going to be approaching orbit in a little under an hour," one of his men pointed out with regret.

"An hour? Hell, we can make a start." Cho held out his arm. "Shall we, Ms Kaylee?"

She hooked her hand through his elbow. "My pleasure, Mr Cho."

* * *

The announcements of their arrival at Aegis were already being broadcast through the ship when Kaylee ran back to their stateroom.

"Don't you want to go?" Freya asked, smiling as she held the door open.

"Two minutes," the young mechanic promised, shedding clothes as she crossed the floor.

"I'm holding you to that!" Freya called as Kaylee disappeared.

"What was she up to?" Zoe asked, scratching her shoulder.

"I'll give you three guesses."

"Engine room?"

"Got it in one." Freya picked up the items of clothing, absently straightening them out.

"I'm surprised we can drag her away. Particularly for where we're going."

"Don't feel like it yourself?" A thought occurred to her, and a sly look crossed her face. "Or are you trying to stay out of the way of a certain doctor?"

"Only if you're talking about a certain doctor who's going to end up being introduced to the business end of a gun."

"I think we are." Freya laughed. "And don't shoot him – I don't think he'd like it."

"No, but I would." Zoe shook her head. "You think he'd take the hint."

"How heavily have you hinted?"

"Graphically."

"He must be smitten."

"No. I just think I'm different to the usual women he gets in his infirmary."

"You can say that again."

"Are you insulting me?"

"If I was, you wouldn't have to ask."

"Shiny." She sighed heavily. "But I promise not to hurt him. Yet."

The door opened, but it wasn't Kaylee. Instead Inara glided into the room, wearing her yellow robe.

"Inara?" Freya looked surprised. "Aren't you ready yet? And I thought Kaylee was the last."

The ex-Companion fell elegantly onto the sofa. "I don't think I'll come. Not this time."

Freya and Zoe exchanged a worried glance.

"Are you okay?" the first mate asked.

"I'm fine. Just a bit of a headache."

"You want me to call someone?" Freya asked. "I'm sure they could –"

"No, no. I'll be fine. I just don't think a day in the sun would do me any good."

Kaylee bounced back into the room. "Ready!" Then she saw Inara, recognised the informal clothing. "'Nara? Ain't you coming with us?"

"Not today."

"You okay?"

"I'm fine, _mei-mei_." Inara smiled. "Today I'm resting."

"Only I'm kinda wondering what Val and Flynn are gonna get up to. I don't really see 'em being as quiet as they were at breakfast." That was true. As everyone else had chatted amiably, the pair of them hadn't said a word, just pushed their food around their plates. "You don't wanna miss the fireworks, do you?"

"You know, I think I do."

"I could get that Doc Barkin to come and take a look at you," Zoe suggested.

"I'm sure you could. But no. Thank you." She put a pillow behind her head. "I think I'll just order a nice pot of Jasmine tea and relax for a while."

"You don't feel better by the time we get back, you're seeing the doctor," Kaylee warned. "They might not be as good as my Simon, but I'm not having Sam complaining we ain't taking care o'you."

"I understand." Inara closed her eyes. "And I promise."

"Good." Kaylee picked up her purse. "Well, we gonna go or not?"

* * *

The guide was droning. "… by hand, using only the most basic tools. Their religious fervour, however, kept them going, and in a surprisingly short time the followers had carved this temple to their beliefs. It is said that there are secret tunnels, going deep into the plateau, but there's no empirical evidence for them."

"Think we should correct him?" Kaylee whispered, letting the sun heat her skin, her arms stretched out to catch as much as she could.

"I doubt he'd listen, _mei-mei._" Zoe smiled. "And if you keep doing that, you'll burn."

"Just a while longer." She grinned and closed her eyes, turning her face to the light.

"If she isn't bright red tonight, I'll buy dinner," Zoe murmured to Freya.

"Mmn."

"I said if Kaylee isn't resembling a beetroot …" She paused. "Are you okay?"

"What?" Freya glanced at her. "Oh, I'm shiny. Just …" She looked back towards the object of her perusal. Or objects, if that was a valid description of three young people.

Flynn was about as far away from Val as it was possible to be while still nominally doing his job, while Phoebe flitted from one to the other, doing her best to wind things up.

Zoe followed her line of sight. "Want me to have a word with her?"

"No." Freya sighed. "In all honesty I doubt it will do any good, not with Phoebe."

"Yeah, she does like to stick her finger in a hornet's nest and see what happens, don't she?" Kaylee agreed.

"At least they're not fighting," Zoe pointed out.

"Or talking."

"Which is fine by me," Freya said firmly.

Zoe smiled. "Are you going to be like this with Jesse?"

"And Ethan."

"Do they know?"

"I think they might be getting an idea."

"I can't wait to see the ructions."

"So you're going to be different over Ben?"

"Nope. Never said I was."

"Then I can foresee plenty of fun in our futures."

"The complex extends into the next cavern," the guide was saying, "where a number of smaller temples cut high into the rock face can only be accessed by ladder. I hope you're brought your climbing shoes."

There was a dutiful smatter of laughter.

"However, if any of you do not feel up to the task there are refreshments in the shuttle, or you are more than welcome to explore the main site. Remember, though, if you find any treasure, we have to share."

This time the laughter was a little more genuine.

"I ain't gonna explore," Kaylee said. "I know what's down there. 'Sides, it ain't changed that much." She shivered, despite the heat.

"It's stayed pretty much the same for some time now," Zoe pointed out. "A year or so isn't gonna make all that much difference."

"Do you think he's still …"

Zoe knew who she was referring to – Reed Prater, a man who'd tried to make the catacombs behind the temple their captain's last resting place, and sell the others off to slavers, but who had fallen foul of one of the many pitfalls and gimcracks. "Don't go thinking on it," she advised. "They deserved what they got."

"Hell, I know that." The normal Kaylee flared back into life. "And I'm sure it couldn't happen to a nicer feller." She reached out to touch the wall, then laughed. "Ooh, look!"

Zoe peered closer at the pink stone, then had to smile. "That man'd deface anything."

"Pretty much like the Cap'n, eh?"

"Not sure he'd do it to an ancient monument."

"Maybe not. But I'd pretty much like to raze the whole thing to the ground."

Zoe turned from the knife marks that spelled out 'J Cobb', and nodded. "Maybe we should have brought grenades."

Kaylee giggled.

* * *

The thick carpet swallowed up her footfalls, but Inara's mind wasn't on moving quietly. Instead she was asking herself if she was doing the right thing.

It wasn't as if she'd lied to the others. She did have a mild headache, and had in fact medicated herself with one of the powders she always carried, washed down with the admirable Jasmine tea their steward had brought her. It was just that perhaps she hadn't told them the entire truth.

Idly she wondered if it was the same syndrome as a woman being attracted to a bad man and believing she would be the only one who could change him, turn him from his evil ways. Not that she was attracted to Saffron – even when she had been taking clients, that particular redhead would never have come up to her exacting standards, no matter how much money she'd offered. Although it might have been interesting as an experiment ...

Inara allowed herself a slow smile, inadvertently making the day of one of the small army of house staff who kept the ship running. In fact, he was so warmed by this staggeringly beautiful woman noticing he was there he almost dropped the coffee tray he was carrying.

Anyway, the point was that she felt a need to help Saffron. Maybe it was just an overflow of pregnancy hormones she'd picked up on, absorbing them like perfume into her skin and becoming instantly dependent on them, but it was an almost physical ache. It had made her dress quickly, barely touching her skin with makeup, before padding her way towards the Presidential Suite.

And there it was, the large double doors closed as always.

She lifted a hand to knock, but paused. Was she that desperate to have a child of her own that she was willing to spend time with a woman who had knowingly attempted to have the entire crew of Serenity murdered? Whose feelings towards Mal veered wildly between hate and love? Who could be relied on only to turn on the hand that was feeding her and bite down hard?

Maybe she should go back. Dial up Sam on the Cortex, talk to him. She could almost see his face, hear his voice. Except he'd probably tell her to do what she felt was right. That if, in her heart of hearts, she knew that Saffron needed help, it was her duty to provide it. If not for the woman herself, at least for her baby.

She sighed lightly, but knocked.

It was only a moment before the door swung silently open, and one of Saffron's factotums stood facing her. "Madam Serra," he said, bowing slightly and moving out of the way so she could enter.

She didn't see the face peering out of the linen closet, drawing slowly back as the doors closed behind her.

* * *

"Shit." Joy Danette looked up at the pink rock temple. She had sidled up to Freya, needing some physical contact.

"Can't say I don't agree with you," Freya muttered. There was definitely something about it, that somehow rocks shouldn't be that colour. The opening below, the blank windows above ... it resembled nothing more than an open mouth and blind eyes.

"It's ... kinda creepy."

"It is that."

"Like there's a load of dead people watching us."

For a moment Freya through of Prater, of Cody and his sister Sadie, psychopaths all. Maybe Mal was right and they attracted folks like that, although at least this time the mouldering corpses were the bad guys. Pulling herself forcibly from her mental funk, she smiled at the girl. "You don't believe in ghosts, do you?" _Even if I do_, she added silently.

"Nah." Joy shook her head, perhaps a little too quickly. "'Cept when I'm in places like this."

Freya laughed. "I honestly can't blame you."

"And it's so quiet."

"Well, apart from us there's no animal life to speak of."

"Yeah, that too, but I meant Val and Flynn." She grinned, her good humour back. "Not talking to each other like they ain't. I'd gotten used to them arguing, especially when they thought you couldn't see." She looked around. "Where are they, by the way?"

Freya followed suit. Sure enough, there was Zoe chatting to Kaylee, Phoebe at their side, but there was no sign of the other twin and her erstwhile bodyguard. She stiffened. "Gorramit, where have they gone now?" She looked around her as if they might appear from solid rock. "What doesn't she get about the meaning of don't wander off?"

She let her barriers down a little, just enough so she could feel Val's presence and not so the ghosts could get in. There. Inside. And at least she wasn't alone. Flynn, from the taste, so at least he hadn't given up on doing his job entirely.

Sensations crowded in. Chill. Dark. But also ... heat?

"Joy, you want to stay here with the others? I'm just going to find out what they're up to."

"Sure, Frey." The girl almost skipped to Kaylee, who put her arm around her.

Zoe's gaze found the captain's wife, but Freya shook her head minutely. She could cope.

Zoe blinked, just once, then turned back to the conversation, happy and secure in the knowledge that Jayne's little gun rested in the small of her back under her shirt.

Turning towards the open mouth of the main temple, Freya took a deep breath and plunged into the dark. Immediately the slight sheen of sweat on her skin froze, feeling like ice as it slid inside her clothing. Determined to spend as little time as possible in this mind-numbing place, Freya hurried towards where she felt Val to be.

A faint sound reached her ears. Heavy breathing, but halting, interrupted by ... was that moaning?

Freya walked faster, fumbling in her pocket for the tiny torch she'd had the presence of mind to bring. If Val were hurt ...

* * *

River was teaching, although after a brief but meaningful discussion with Mal she had reverted to Freya's lessons. Almost.

"Auntie River?" Hope held out her pad. "This won't work."

River glanced at the workings out, seeing the problem immediately. "Think of perspective," she advised.

"Um … okay." Hope put the book back down in front of her and stared at it, trying to see if from her Aunt's point of view.

"What'cha doing?" Jayne asked, clomping down into the kitchen and heading behind the counter for a bag of protein snacks.

"Working," River said, giving him the eye.

"Oddly enough, I figured that out."

"Then why ask?"

"Okay." He knew when she was in a mood – it hung around her like a dark cloud, shot through with thunderflashes. "I'll get gone again, shall I?"

Ethan looked up, his eyes pleading.

"Don't let him distract you," River said firmly, and the young Reynolds sighed loudly and went back to his work, acutely aware of Maoli lying stretched out under the table by his feet.

"Yes, Auntie River."

She looked up again at Jayne. "Where's Caleb?"

"Asleep."

"Good."

"Really?" He tore open the bag, popping a handful of crackers into his mouth. "I'd'a thought you'd be wanting him here, forcing that knowledge you're so sure of into his little head." He knew he was winding her up, but sometimes it was the only way to get her out of one of her black spells, and he couldn't leave the kids to pick up the brunt. Still, it _was_ a bit like poking a tiger with a stick, and he was ready to run if need be.

"Everyone should be educated," his wife said, sounding more like her brother than ever.

"Yeah, but that ain't what I'm saying. Education is a good thing, else everyone'd turn out like me." He saw the children glance at each other, trying not to smile. "But as far as I can figure it, Frey tries to make some of it fun."

River gazed at him, her dark eyes almost pulling him into their depths, and he wondered if maybe he'd gone too far. He didn't want to upset her. Then she sighed and collapsed back into the chair.

"I should be good at this," she said quietly.

He breathed again, heading out from behind the counter to sit down next to her. "'Cause you're good at most things?"

"Yes."

"It took Frey a while to get into the rhythm of being a teacher," he reminded her.

"Yes, but –" She bit the sentence off.

"But you ain't Frey?" he supplied gently. "And you can just do stuff without having to work at it? Like knitting?"

She glared at him. "Yes."

"That took you a while, though, didn't it? Having to practice?"

Her mind skittered to the very first piece of knitting she'd ever managed to produce, a small square that had dropped stitches and uneven tension, something she'd been so proud of as she carried Caleb towards the end of her pregnancy. "My Jayne showed me how," she whispered.

"A'course."

"And I got better."

"Yep. That blanket you made for David Gabriel's a wonder. But you had to practice."

"Practice." She sighed. "Yes."

"And Frey's showing you how to teach." He put his hand on her knee.

She shivered at the touch of her husband's fingers pressing gently into her flesh, and she felt the clouds begin to thin. "Oh."

"So how about putting this aside for today, and we find something interesting on the Cortex to look at?"

"Like pirates?" Bethie piped up, unable to keep quiet.

"Dinosaurs!" Ethan put in, Jesse nodding hard in agreement.

"Spaceships," Ben suggested, ever his father's son.

Only Hope didn't speak, having just that moment understood what her aunt had been getting at, and writing the correct answer into her book. Still, it would be nice to look some more at the great art treasures from Earth-that-was ...

River sighed again. "It's in the cupboard," she said, referring to the portable link Freya used.

"Great." Jayne pushed his chair back with a squeal and got up.

Bethie had begun to jiggle in her seat, then something made her stop. Something that had tickled her senses from a long way away. She turned her mind outwards, pulling the tendrils in towards her ... Her eyes widened. "Oh."

Jayne, at the cupboard, turned back. "What is it, short stub?"

River looked at her niece, then focussed, following the trail back towards its source. "Oh dear."

"Moonbrain?" Jayne asked, taking a sharp step.

"Oh dear," she said again as her lips lifted of their own accord, widening into a grin.

* * *

The sounds got louder, the moaning more prominent, and Freya could visualise, all too clearly, the young Reilly twin lying on the dirt, her leg twisted, her ankle at an unnatural angle.

As she rounded the corner, she switched the torch on.

"Val?" Freya eyes adjusted to the brighter light level as she spoke, and her eyebrows almost disappeared into her hair.

Valentia Reilly, her carefully coiffed hair askew and her lipstick smudged heavily, stepped back from the depths of Flynn's embrace. "Aunt Frey!"


	18. Chapter 18

"Oh, you're back." Inara was surprised to see Zoe and Kaylee in the sitting room of their suite, having an obviously deep and meaningful conversation. "Is it that time already?" She glanced at the clock, but that seemed to be wrong.

"We ... uh ... came back early," Kaylee said, twisting her hair around her finger. "Wondered where you'd got to."

"Oh, I just ... went for a walk." Saffron was more than willing to talk, Inara had found out, particularly when the ex-Companion had used her wiles on her bodyguards and insisted they order tea and some of those delicious pastries, and now she knew rather more than she needed about some of the jobs the redhead had pulled. "I needed some fresh air."

"Did it help?" Zoe asked.

"Excuse me?"

"With your headache?"

"Oh, yes. It's completely gone." Inara looked around the room. "Where are the others?"

Kaylee's wide eyes seemed to glow. "Well, Phoebe's in her room, Flynn's ... well, I'm not actually sure where he is, 'cause he stormed off when we got back, and Frey's talking to Val."

"Talking?"

"Mmn." Kaylee glanced at Zoe, then giggled, hiding her mouth behind her hand.

"What about? And why did Flynn storm off?"

"Well ..."

"There's something going on here I don't know about, isn't there?"

"Could be."

"Did everyone come back early?"

"No," Zoe explained. "Just us. Kaylee made faces at the shuttle pilot and got him to bring us up ahead of time."

"I did not!" the young mechanic blustered. "I just asked."

"Really."

"Can I help it if the puppy-dog eyes worked even better on him than on the Cap'n?"

"That's only because he lets you get away with it."

"That's 'cause I'm his _mei-mei_." Kaylee sounded extremely satisfied.

Inara was beginning to feel frustrated. "Can someone please tell me what's going on?" she demanded, her hands on her hips.

This time Zoe smiled, the slow grin that indicated something had amused her greatly. "Well ..."

_A little while before, down on Aegis …_

In the darkness of Ling Miao Freya could barely catch her breath. "What the _diyu _is going on?" She stared at Val and Flynn, the light from her torch catching the flares in both their cheeks.

"Aunt Frey, it's not what you think," Val said quickly, trying to push her hair back into place.

"Well, I'm pretty glad of that, because what I think is that you two have been playing us all for fools."

"No, no, it's not like that." The older Reilly twin stepped forward. "We ... Flynn ..." She glanced at the young man when she couldn't find the right words.

"You and Flynn ... what?" Freya asked, feeling her foot wanting to begin tapping.

Val knew the look, had seen it perhaps twice when her Aunt was angry with someone, generally her Uncle Mal, and didn't particularly want to be on the receiving end of it.

"Freya, we haven't done anything," Flynn put in, moving forward to stand next to Val.

"Only because I got here first." Freya nodded pointedly towards Val's bodice, where she was showing somewhat more pale flesh than the dress strictly allowed.

Val glanced down, reddening even more. She adjusted the fabric quickly. "We were just kissing," she said, a trace of sullenness creeping into her voice.

"And yesterday you were ready to tear each other's heads off, not your clothes."

"We didn't plan this," Flynn said, reaching out to put his hand around Val's waist but dropping it quickly at Freya's glare. "Val wanted to see inside, I thought it better to come with her, and ..."

"And what?"

"It just happened." He stuck his chin forward defiantly, looking more like his mother than ever.

"So you both decided at the same time."

"Yes."

Freya glared at them, then flicked the torch. "Outside. Both of you."

"Aunt Frey –" Val tried.

"No. Not now. Outside."

* * *

Appraising Zoe and Kaylee quickly of the situation, Phoebe standing back but listening with her mouth so wide open it was lucky Aegis didn't have flies, Freya waited for the others to be as angry as she was.

Unfortunately, they disappointed her.

"They were only kissing," Kaylee pointed out. "Hell, done enough of that before I was Val's age. And more."

"I was already a soldier," Zoe added. "And if they were only kissing ..."

"Then! Only kissing _then_! Who knows what it would have led to?"

Kaylee grinned, but quickly suppressed it.

"And what were you doing when you were eighteen?" Zoe asked, earning another glare.

"I hadn't slept with anyone! And that's not the point."

"Isn't it?"

"You're supposed to back me up."

"Even if you're wrong?"

"What's wrong with kissing?" Kaylee asked. "And if they like each other –" At Freya's look she decided it was safer to not say another word on the subject, instead choosing to wipe some of the sweat off her forehead.

"Damn place," Freya muttered. "I think we need to get back so we can discuss this in private."

* * *

Freya almost stomped down the corridor towards their suite, virtually colliding with a man as he turned away from them. She only noted his black hair before passing him with a brusque apology, her mind full of all the words she wanted to say, and stopped outside their door. "Inside," she ordered.

Only raising her eyebrow, Zoe went in first, the others trailing after her. All except for Flynn.

"I need a drink," he announced, striding away from them towards one of the many bars.

"Flynn –" Val began.

"Let him go," Zoe said quietly, just touching her arm. "It ain't like he can go that far."

Inside the suite, Freya turned to the others, her gaze fixing on Val. "Go to your room. I'll be up in a minute."

"Aunt Frey, I don't –" She was about to say she was old enough – and rich enough – to make her own decisions, but the look on the other woman's face was enough to stop the words up behind her teeth. "Yes, Aunt Frey." She turned on her heel and almost ran out of the room.

"You too," Freya said to Phoebe.

The second Reilly twin looked scandalised. "Why? I wasn't playing tonsil hockey with anyone."

"Phoebe."

"Okay, I'm going. Still don't see why I can't be around for the fireworks."

"Because there aren't going to be any." She walked purposefully out.

* * *

"... and that's pretty much where you came in."

Inara, sitting now on the big armchair, stared at the two women. "Val and Flynn?"

"Yep," Kaylee said. "And I think they make a cute couple."

"Is Freya really that angry about it?"

"Oh yes," the woman in question said, coming into the room. "Freya really is that angry about it."

"Why?"

"Because she should have said!" Freya dropped onto the sofa, but was up again in a moment, pacing. "I'm supposed to be looking after her, and she just goes and ..."

"What?" Inara sat forward. "Decides to have a good time?"

"With Flynn!"

"What's wrong with Flynn?"

"Nothing. Except she hates him!"

"Love and hate ..." Inara mused for a moment. "You know, I've always thought there was such a very thin line between those two emotions sometimes."

Freya stared at her. "You're not saying she loves him."

"Not at all. But he's different. Exciting. I think that's why they were fighting, sublimating the attraction into something else entirely."

"He's supposed to be her bodyguard."

"Just guarding it a different way," Kaylee put in chirpily.

Freya ignored her. "It's his job."

"Can't it be fun too?" Zoe asked.

"No!"

Inara sighed. "Oh, Frey, don't be such a prude."

"A ..."

"It's not like Val's betrothed to some Alliance bigwig who won't accept her unless she's untouched. She's a vibrant, lovely young woman who wants to live a little. And if she wants to do some of that with Flynn, why not?" Inara took half a breath. "Isn't that what they came on this cruise for?"

"Inara ..."

"It's upset your little view of the world, hasn't it?" Inara said, this time keeping her tone gentle. "No matter that you're Freya Reynolds, there's still a little part of you inside that's Elena Rostov, that believes money should marry money."

Freya was shocked. "I don't!"

"No? Because you're giving a very good impression of it."

Freya stared at her, her mouth opening and closing like a fish, then she turned on her heel and stalked out of the room

"Where's she going?" Kaylee asked in a stage whisper to Zoe.

"On past experience, to talk to Mal."

"Talk? Oh, you mean ..." Kaylee tapped her own temple.

"Mmn."

"You think he's going to be on her side?"

Zoe didn't answer, but the smile was back in place.

* * *

Mal was laughing. No matter that they weren't in the same room, or even the same ship, but more miles apart than she cared to think, but she just _knew_ he was laughing. His thoughts were tinged with the flavour, and in all honesty it was making her mad. Well, madder than she already was.

"It's not funny!" she insisted, saying the words out loud to emphasise them.

_Sure it is, ai ren._ He looked out at the stars through the bridge window, taking the late watch, but all he could see was her face. And yes, he _was_ laughing.

"And you knew!" Now her mental tone was accusing.

_Well, truth is, River and Bethie both let the cat outta the bag. They couldn't wait to tell everyone. Jayne and Hank ain't stopped chuckling yet._

_They will when I see them._

He shrugged, even though she couldn't tell. _You wanted to take him on. Give him that second chance you insisted on. And I reckon he's taken hold of it with both hands._

_She's eighteen!_

_And he ain't that much older, for all he's done in that short life. And I thought this cruise was meant for the girls to experience life a little? Or were you lying to me?_

_I didn't mean with him!_

_Ain't that a trifle double standards? _He didn't often argue with her, knowing her temper when it occasionally flared, and that she was usually more right than wrong, so in this instance he wondered why he was coming down on Flynn's side. He went on, _All people are equal, remember? Or were you fighting a war for a different reason?_

_But they hate each other._

_From what you told me, I don't think that's the case no more._

In her bedroom on the Empress Freya was pacing, wearing the carpet out beneath her boots. _No. I don't think it is._ She sighed and virtually fell onto the bed, speaking the words now as well as she laid down and stared into the ceiling. "Zoe's as bad as you. Kaylee thinks it's funny. And Inara's positively gushing."

He had to chuckle at her tone, but made an effort, his mental taste reverting to more normal tones as he spoke. "Sorry, _xin gan_. I know it ain't fair of me. You're trying to deal with it, and I'm not helping."

Her own anger faded. "No, I'm sorry. And I suppose it _is_ funny."

"You given Val a piece of your mind yet?"

"No. I said we were going to talk, and I tried, but she was being so bull-headed ... pretty much like you, in fact ... so I ... " She sounded sheepish, even in his mind. "Honestly I'm leaving her to stew for a while."

"That's cruel." He tempered his words with a soft laugh. "And so unlike you."

"She made me mad."

"You could always let Inara deal with her."

"I told you, Inara thinks it's all in fun."

"Maybe she does, and the truth is it probably ain't much more than that. I doubt Flynn's the love of her life, no matter what Val thinks now."

"Oh to be eighteen again."

"Crewing on a Lancaster," he reminded her. She gave a reluctant laugh as his words echoed Zoe's, and he relaxed. "Frey, honey, take my advice. Let Inara deal with Val, even if it's only another talk on the birds and the bees."

"You don't think –"

"No, I don't. They ain't had the chance, 'less they've been deceiving the lot of you."

She thought for a moment, then realised neither Val nor Flynn had the capability – or the desire – to fool any of them. "No. I think the antagonism was all too real."

"Then I don't think it's gone that far. But you make out like you're banning 'em from seeing each other, and you could be pushing 'em into it."

There was a silence. Then ... "When did you get to be so wise?"

"I'm captain. It comes with the territory. 'Sides, it's usually your counselling me to be less ... bull in a china shop."

The laugh was fuller, tinged with passion. "You hate those sayings."

"With a vengeance. 'Cept when I'm talking to you."

"Mal, _zhang fu_, you haven't heard anything yet." She grinned.

* * *

A floor below, another conversation was going on.

"Are you sure it's her?"

"I don't forget a face, Aiden. You know that."

"She didn't recognise you?"

"Nope. Too angry, it seemed to me."

"And she's shacked up with the woman who's taken to visiting our target."

"Yep. I asked around about her, like you asked. That one used to be a Companion."

"Really. Now that could be fun. Woman like that'd know all sorts of tricks. And still be worth money at the end."

"Aiden ..."

"Oh, it's all right, Jarrett. But I won't turn it down if it comes knocking." There was a pause. "Everything else set?"

"All done. Nobody's gonna know a thing until it's too late."

"Good. Now, you get back. We'll be in The Halo tonight, and Chester's already chomping at the bit to get this job done."

"Okay, Aiden."


	19. Chapter 19

Freya was dreaming. She had to be, at least that's what she kept telling herself. Partly because Eavesdown Docks never smelled this good, nor was the sky quite such an outstanding blue. She was walking up to a certain familiar Firefly, and to a man standing on the ramp, his thumbs tucked into his gunbelt, pants just a little on the tight side so they showed off his fine ass.

"Mal?" The sight of him swept away any thoughts that this wasn't real – he looked perfect, his eyes reflecting the colour of the sky as if they were glowing, although she found she couldn't rush to hug him, which puzzled her slightly.

"Hey, Frey." The captain of Serenity grinned at her. "Come to congratulate me?"

"Congratulate?"

"On my wedding."

Something was wrong. She knew it. Something about the picture was skewed, like looking in a mirror at a familiar room ... something was off. "You got married?"

"I did. Six months ago." He was grinning even wider. "I can't believe I ain't seen you in all this time, Still, you're here now, and I'm gonna introduce you to the missus."

"Mal ..."

"What?"

He looked so genuinely happy she didn't have the heart to express her doubts. "I ... that's … congratulations, I guess." She swallowed hard. "Is it good?"

"Real good. Like having the best party all the time."

"Then I'm ... I'm glad."

She'd never said, she realised. Never told him how she felt. In all the years they'd known each other, she'd never let him know that all he had to do was crook his little finger and she'd come running, willing to give everything up to be his forever. And now he was somebody else's.

"Thanks, Frey. Coming from you, that means a lot." He turned to look into the comparative darkness of the cargo bay. "Saffron? Come out and meet my best friend."

There were footsteps coming towards them, and a woman appeared at Mal's side, her red hair caught up in a straggly ponytail from which tendrils were escaping, her very bounteous assets straining the top she wore. Not that Freya was looking there. Instead she couldn't stop staring at the mound at the woman's waist. But Mal said they'd only been married six months, and this looked more like eight or nine. She pointed, her hand shaking. "But she's …"

"Yep." Mal grinned again, looking so much younger and more relaxed. "You know what I think about having a family. And it don't matter the kid's not mine – I'll raise him right, and when more come along, he can be their big brother."

Freya felt the world begin to twist, sounds coming to her from a long way off, and as she slipped to the dirt she heard Saffron's voice demanding to know what was going on, and who was this crazy woman who was fainting at their feet …

Freya sat bolt upright in bed, her heart pounding nineteen to the dozen, sweat on her brow. Her feet were tangled up in the bedsheets, suggesting she'd been active. Looking wildly around the unlit room, she could make out the ormolu chest of drawers in the corner, the large Cortex screen on the wall, the chair with the red satin cover where she'd dropped her clothes the night before ... Yes. The Empress of Sihnon. Her room. Of course.

She lay down, trying to calm herself. Saffron. Of all people. And Mal wouldn't look at her twice. Not even once. Not after the last time. Or the time before that, for that matter. Staring into the shadows over the bed Freya tried to analyse the thought processes that had pushed that conniving, dishonest _puo foo_ into her dreams. But then, that was the point. It was only a dream. Not real. Like the time she'd dreamed that elves had painted the cargo bay sky blue. She'd had to get up and check that one, and Mal had had a damn good laugh when she told him.

Saffron. Freya shook her head, a rueful smile starting to lift the corners of her mouth. Saffron. As if that didn't take the multi-layered cake ...

The smile grew wider. Mal might have made fun of her earlier in her attempts to explain just why she was mad at Flynn, but this time perhaps the boot was on the other foot. She sent out a mental wave.

_Mal?_

There was no response. She tried again, but with no more luck. She could feel him, just, a sort of echo in her mind, but that was all.

She glanced at the clock. A little after 10.30 pm, shipboard time. After the day they'd had everyone seemed to feel the need for an early night, so she'd been asleep less than an hour. Time enough to dream, if nothing else. Anyway, that didn't explain why she couldn't talk to Mal. Knowing the adjustments the Empress made to the length of the hours, she could figure that he wouldn't be in bed yet, probably only just starting supper, so why …

Something outside the large window caught her attention, and her head whipped around. Unlike the others who closed the heavy drapes to keep the illusion of night over the reality of space, she preferred to sleep with the wash of starlight over her, as if it made Mal that much closer. Now, though, something was interrupting that view.

It moved slowly, but seemed to scatter the light that hit it, breaking it into a rainbow of colours that reflected into the room, brightening her skin into stained glass.

"Asteroid," she breathed.

Of course. The Halo. That explained it. River had postulated that the mental link Freya and Mal enjoyed might be disrupted somewhat by the obscure electrical fields bending normal processes out of alignment. Of course, she'd taken a lot longer to say it, with a number of highly technical terms that probably only four or five people in the entire 'verse could understand, but it basically came down to the fact that there'd be times inside The Halo when they wouldn't be able to 'talk'. She wasn't entirely one hundred percent certain but …

Freya smiled. It looked like the young psychic was right again. So unless they hit a sweet spot, or Serenity was through The Halo herself, there weren't going to be any more late night chats.

She sighed and pummelled her pillow into submission and a more reasonable shape, closing her eyes to the light display going on outside. There'd be time enough to enjoy it in the morning, when they could all watch the show as they had their breakfast.

Slowing her breathing, she slipped back into sleep, the dream recapturing her, and she wondered why she could see Inara standing on the top catwalk above the cargo bay …

* * *

As Mal signed off the wave, he wasn't surprised to hear River's voice behind him.

"Does Freya know you were planning on telling Jez?"

He turned in the pilot's seat to smile at her. "Why, do you think she'd be mad, _xiao nu_?"

"She may have wanted to have the pleasure herself, _jia yan_." Her little face was serious, but her dark eyes sparkled.

Mal chuckled. "Yeah, well, I figure she'd understand. Especially since she'd know Jez would want to be at Persephone to give a few words with her errant son."

Jez, in fact, had been more than grateful for the news. "And he's all right?" she had asked yet again.

"He's fine, at least according to Frey. I've not seen him myself, but she says he looks fit."

The captain of Cherokee let out a long, low breath. "We're changing course."

"Figured you might." Mal could see Noah off to one side, obviously recalculating trajectories. "Any idea when you're likely to join us?"

Jez looked round at her husband.

"If we burn it," the man said, his eyes half closed as he considered his readings, "I think we can make Persephone about twenty hours after you land. We could get to you a lot quicker, coming in at the angle we … but I'd say within a day for Eavesdown."

"Shiny. Although I might have trouble making sure Flynn hangs around that long."

Jez stared at him. "Why? What's he been doing? I thought you said he had a job looking after –"

Mal explained, as succinctly as he could. "So it's possible he might just take off."

"Does he like her?" Noah asked, leaning back into view.

"That's something you'd need to ask Frey," Mal said, dodging the question.

"Does she like _him_?" Jez wanted to know, the mother in her coming out, even if she hadn't had much practice. She sounded as if she thought any girl would be stupid not to fall for his charms.

"Jez, there's no point in going for the third degree. I don't know. You make a list of all the questions you want to ask, and I'll tell Frey to tie Flynn to a bed so you can get to ask 'em, okay?"

She didn't look happy, but nodded. "Okay." Noah obviously poked her, because she shot him a glare, then said, turning back to Mal, "And thanks. For letting me know."

"Hey, what're friends for?"

Jez sighed heavily. "Sometimes I wonder if families are worth it."

"You give it a while," Mal said sagely, noting where Noah had placed his hand. "You might be finding out."

Now, back on their own on Serenity's bridge, River whispered, "Families."

Mal nodded. "You can say that again."

"He won't listen."

"Kids don't. I conjure it's part of the job description – parents have to try and tell 'em what's right, and kids have to not listen."

"Ethan listens to you." She slid into the chair next to him.

"Just give him a few years, albatross. Caleb too. Hell, in a decade or so these younguns'll be running us ragged."

She grinned happily. "I believe you're right." She lifted her bare feet onto the seat and wriggled her toes, even as her eyes slid across the board to make sure everything was okay.

"Just checking?" Mal asked, knowing what she was looking at.

She shrugged, then added, "Yes."

"Well, we all do it."

Hank, with her help, had managed to increase their speed somewhat dramatically by using first a comet, then a moon, and finally a heavy-cored black rock to give them a slingshot boost. That, coupled with the fact that Serenity wasn't stopping for day trips to take in the sights, and could take a more direct route, meant they were finally catching up with the Empress of Sihnon, and almost at the Halo themselves.

"By the way," she said, once she was sure there was nothing else she could suggest to improve matters, "Ethan's in with Ben, and Jesse's with Bethie and Hope."

"They're missing their Mamas."

"I thought they could have supper in bed."

He nodded. "I think they'd like that. Make it like a big adventure." A sigh of his own managed to wangle its way up his chest and out through his mouth. "Maybe I should join 'em."

"Missing Frey?"

"Counting the hours." He held back on another exhale. "I never knew two weeks would pass so slowly. Only time it dragged more was back in the war." _Or when I thought she was like to die on me_, he added silently, but the expression on River's face suggested he hadn't been as silent as all that.

She didn't call him on it. "At least you've been able to talk to her." She tapped her temple. "Simon and Hank haven't had that opportunity with their wives."

"I know, and believe me when I say I'm grateful for that. 'Cept she's not exactly answering at the moment."

"The Halo."

"Ah." He remembered the conversation, and the fact that most of it had gone way over his head. "So that's it?"

"For the moment. At our current acceleration we'll be passing into The Halo ourselves in about ninety-three minutes and seventeen seconds."

His lips twitched. "About?"

"I can be more accurate if you'd like."

"No, no, that's fine. About is something I can live with."

She ignored his attempt at wit and went on, "We should arrive at Persephone approximately four hours after the liner."

"Good. I'll be glad to get that _fei hua_ outta my hold."

"We could have spaced it," she pointed out, flexing her feet and watching the way the tendons stretched.

"And give up on the chance to make Badger eat some of it?" He grinned. "Nah. Mind, he's gonna be paying …" He stopped, aware she was suddenly still in only the manner his albatross could be. "What is it?" he asked, feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. "River?"

* * *

The Halo. Supposedly the remnant of a number of planets torn apart by unknown forces back in the mists of time, now an asteroid belt that surrounded the inner core, separating them from the rabble. More than just a physical barrier, it was also the cause of a lot of the 'them and us' attitude of planets such as Sihnon and Osiris. Even Persephone, on the 'us' side of the border, gave itself airs, although there had been many suggestions in the past to find a way of dragging the planet lock, stock and stinking barrel out beyond the belt, and only some of them were joking.

The other problem, of course, was the annoying fact that The Halo was something of a Cortex blackspot.

The Alliance had done its best, setting up relay after relay in amongst the multitude of rocks, but something in their composition still threw the signals around, and pilots inside it privately called it The Pit. Going around it added days to a journey, so most captains just gritted their teeth and sailed through, hoping not to have an engine blow, or meet pirates hanging around looking for easy pickings, anything they might have to call for help to get over. It could be a long wait for rescue.

For something as big as the Empress of Sihnon it wasn't usually a problem. Her multiple back-up systems and redundancies could cope with almost anything.

Except perhaps this.

The explosion ripped through the lower control deck, luckily unmanned at that time of night, and in a moment, as the shudder registered across the entire ship, the lights flickered and went out. Other systems tried to cut in, to take up the slack, but they couldn't cope when the second explosion tore a hole in her side, neatly severing all connections. Emergency bulkhead door bolts blew, slamming shut against the escape of precious air, and sirens wailed.

Passengers and crew who had been sleeping were jerked awake, staring into dark, while those who were still up added to the confusion as panic ensued.

* * *

Zoe was last into the sitting room by dint of having to take a fraction more time throwing her clothes on because of her shoulder, but only Freya and Flynn had otherwise bothered even partly dressing. Not that anyone noticed as they realised they were still missing two of their company.

"Where's Inara and Val?" Freya asked, pulling her boots on.

"Val's not in her bed," Phoebe said, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, shivering slightly. "It doesn't look slept in."

Freya glanced at Flynn, but he managed to look innocent. "What about Inara?"

Kaylee quickly put in, "Nope. I looked. She ain't in her room either."

"Gorramit it," Freya breathed, adding louder, "Then we have to find them."

"Do you think this might be just a glitch?" Zoe asked the young mechanic.

Kaylee, wrapped in her pyjamas and robe, shook her head. "If we're still running on emergency lights, it's pretty bad."

"It felt like an explosion," Phoebe said.

"Yeah." Kaylee glanced around the group. "And you all need to put more clothes on," she ordered. "I'm gonna see if I can find an internal com that'll work, see if I can't figure out what's going on."

"And the clothes?" Flynn asked.

"If I'm right, we're down to bare basics. And if something ain't done, it's gonna get cold, pretty fast. Quicker'n if we were on Serenity, since there's a lot more hull to bleed heat." She ran out.

"What about Aunt Inara?" Phoebe asked, standing as close to Zoe as she could. "And Val?"

"Inara's been restless," Flynn said slowly. "I think she's been taking walks when you've ..." His voice trailed away as the others looked at him. "I've had trouble sleeping myself," he explained, somewhat defensively.

"Not surprised," Freya muttered. "Maybe that's all she doing, Val too, but that's not the point. I want everyone together where we can keep an eye on you."

"Pirates?" Zoe asked quietly.

"Be a bit of a coincidence otherwise, don't you think?"

The look on Zoe's face gave her all the answer she needed. "Mmn."

Freya turned to Phoebe. "Stay here," she ordered.

"But Auntie Frey –" Phoebe began, her face scared in the dull red light.

"You'll be safe if you stay put." She looked at Zoe. "Got Jayne's gun?"

"Fully loaded."

She turned to Flynn. "I'm guessing you're armed."

The young man held up a newish Corazon. "Yes, ma'am."

Freya's lips twitched slightly. "I think they need to review their security measures." Sober again she went on, "Good, because you're going to look after them while we find Inara and Val."

"Freya –"

"Are you going to argue with me now?" She was becoming exasperated.

"No, but –"

"You do your job."

He looked like he might protest, but nodded instead.

Kaylee hurried back into the room. "You know, I bet what they've done means there's no beacon, and no time for a distress, even if we weren't where we are." She headed for the door.

Zoe stopped her with a hand on her arm. "Where do you think you're going?"

The young woman was wearing the oldest clothes she had with her, pants and a long sleeved top, her thickest jacket in her hand. "Going to help."

Freya spoke quickly. "No. As soon as we get the others back we need to stay together."

"Have to." The young woman's normally bubbly personality was now firm, determined. "They're gonna need every hand they can find."

For a moment Freya glared at her, then nodded sharply, just once. "Zoe, go with her."

Serenity's first mate tucked the Feldman into the back of her pants, ignoring the tug of pain in her shoulder. "You stay next to me, _mei-mei_."

Kaylee nodded, glad to have the company. "Sure thing." She threw open the door, yelping as she almost ran into Val standing outside.

"Where the _diyu_ have you been?" Freya demanded, then saw the frightened look on the girl's face. She pulled her into her arms, holding her tightly. "You don't go wandering off," she said quieter.

Val felt her heart slow its mad rush. "I just wanted to walk. To think." She glanced over Freya's shoulder towards Flynn.

"Hmmn." Freya stood back enough, her hands on her shoulders. "Where's Inara?"

"I don't know."

Freya's eyes narrowed. "You mean she wasn't with you?"

"No. I went by myself. I didn't want any company."

"Can't you tell where she is?" Zoe asked.

"Not ..." Freya concentrated, trying to get past the fogginess The Halo was generating, For a second there was clarity, and the bright flame that was Inara burned through. "Yes. Sort of." The fog rolled back in. "I'll find her. You take Kaylee. Flynn stays here and looks after the girls."

* * *

On the Serenity's bridge Mal stared at River, slowly straightening in his seat. "You sure?"

"Yes." She stood up, her thin dress moving around her knees.

"I can't get anything from Frey."

"The Halo. Busy. Just a flash." Her mind was obviously elsewhere, probably trying to get through the interference.

"But you –"

"Have to go." She ran from the bridge. "I'll call Hank," she tossed back over her shoulder as she leapt down the steps.

Mal stared after her, then slowly turned back to the windows, staring out at the stars. Something had changed, and now they didn't soothe him as they normally did, but almost seemed to crowd in on him, making his chest tight, and the scar down his breastbone ache.

"Mal?" Hank leaned in the doorway. "What's going on?"

* * *

"Now?"

"Give it a few minutes. Nothing like a little panic to cover up a kidnapping." Chester Lau smiled, his heavy-set face twisting into a parody of pleasure. "And signal the Dragon to come in. They should be close enough to pick it up, despite The Halo."

His two brothers nodded, each strapping a gunbelt they'd managed to smuggle on board around their hips.

Jarrett, though, still had a question. "But what if it takes too long?"

Aiden slapped him on the back. "It won't. By the time the other bomb goes off, we'll be long gone."


	20. Chapter 20

Down in the lower levels of the Empress of Sihnon, Kaylee stopped outside a half-open door.

"You go on back," she said to Zoe. "I'll be fine now."

"Ain't gonna happen." Serenity's first mate shook her head.

"They need you back upstairs." Kaylee looked at her friend. "There ain't a thing you can do down here to help."

"Kaylee ..."

"My turf now," the young woman said. "And you gotta go do what you do."

Zoe took a deep breath. "Fine. And you can explain to Freya if I find you've wandered off."

"Not gonna do that," Kaylee assured her. "Got the feeling there's too much to be done." She disappeared into the engine room.

Zoe watched her go, a slight smile on her lips as she yet again admired the hidden steel inside the young woman. Then she turned and headed back towards the stairs.

* * *

"I don't get it," Jayne said, but doing what River asked.

"We may need it."

"How?"

She looked at him, her dark eyes seeming to see a lot further than the edges of the cargo bay, and they probably were, but it was more than usual. "I don't know," she admitted, her brow furrowing.

"But you think we will."

"Yes."

"Good enough for me, moonbrain." He continued shovelling ore.

River glanced at the children clustered in the doorway to the common area. Bethie was at the front, Hope's hand held tightly in hers. Ben was next to them, but looking no less scared, holding onto Hope's other hand. Just behind was Ethan, Jesse at his side, her little arms wrapped around his waist, her eyes huge.

"Can't you make 'em go and sit someplace?" Jayne breathed, not stopping working, sweat staining his t-shirt a darker brown.

"Their mamas," she whispered.

He understood, knowing that Bethie and Ethan wouldn't be able to keep their worries to themselves, even if the other children hadn't already picked up on the tension on board ship. "We'll get 'em back." He didn't speak any louder than she did, but it must have carried.

"Is that a promise?" Bethie asked, her little voice filling the bay, hitching as if she was trying hard not to cry.

Jayne straightened up. "Yeah. It's a promise."

Bethie looked at her Uncle, taking in the muscles bulging on his arms, perspiration on his brow. "I believe you," she said softly.

Ethan stepped forwards, pushing past the other children. "Want to help."

Jayne looked at River, who nodded almost imperceptibly. "Sure." He managed to grind out a half-smile. "Less work for me to do."

"All of us," Bethie added, wanting there to be no doubt in anybody's mind.

River picked up a lump of ore. "Thank you," she said, tossing it into the bomb bay.

They scrambled to do the same.

* * *

"Chief?" Kaylee peered into the gloom, smoke catching at her eyes and throat.

A sudden bright flash of torchlight made her blink, then a figure loomed up behind it. "Ms Kaylee? You shouldn't be here." Chief Engineer Cho hurried forward, taking her arm, trying to pull her towards the bulkhead door. "It ain't safe."

"We're on a spaceship, stranded with no power," she pointed out, standing as solidly as she could. "I'm pretty sure there ain't anywhere on board that's safe."

He was still angry with her, but at least it was with concern for her well-being. "Yeah, but anywhere else ain't likely to blow up on us."

Kaylee glanced around at the befouled atmosphere filling the large area. "Is that going to happen?"

"I don't know." Cho wiped at his streaming eyes. "The two explosions did a hell of a lot of damage. Whoever set the charges knew exactly what they were doing."

"Sabotage?"

"No other word for it."

Freya was right, Kaylee mused. "Then we're going to be expecting company," she said quietly.

"I figured that."

Her own eyes tearing up but refusing to wipe at them, Kaylee drew herself up to her full height. "Shiny. What do you want me to do?"

"Ms Kaylee –" he began, but she cut him off.

"Nope. I'm a mechanic, born and bred. It's in my blood, you know that. And my friends are upstairs. I wanna do all I can to keep 'em safe. And if that means getting my hands dirty, well …" She glanced down at her fingers, at the three day-old manicure she was about to destroy. "It won't be the first time."

She could see him considering, and the moment he knew she was right. His shoulders relaxed, just a little. "Okay. Can't say I couldn't use the help, and you surely seemed to know what you were talking about."

"Just glad you ain't got Gertslers."

He looked affronted. "Wouldn't have those things within a thousand miles."

Her lips twitched. "So … what first?"

Cho smiled slightly. "We gotta get this air clear, so we can see what we're doing. Think you can handle the scrubbers?"

"No problem. We got any power at all?"

"Just what's in the emergency cells, and that ain't gonna last much beyond a few hours."

"Then we'd better get to work." With that she led the way back into the smoke, the red light giving it the feel of entering hell.

* * *

"That's it," Hank said as the signal died. "We're not going to be talking to anyone again for a while." He manoeuvred Serenity around the first of the large asteroids even while attempting to take as direct a route as possible.

"What about the Alliance relays?" Mal asked, getting up from the co-pilot's seat to start pacing.

"I checked the Cortex half an hour ago, and apparently there's been a problem lately with some of 'em going down."

"That's convenient."

"Even more so when you consider the ones that've been knocked out are specifically along the Empress's route."

Mal paused. "And no-one's come out to fix them?"

"Scheduled for repair next week." Hank shook his head. "And they talk about the Alliance as being all efficiency."

"They also talk about them being fair and honest, and so far I ain't exactly seen too much evidence for that either." Mal resumed his pacing. "It surely sounds like someone was planning this for a while."

"Might be coincidence."

"I don't believe in 'em."

Hank watched as his captain turned on his heel and started back across the bridge. "Are you intending to walk all the way to the Empress?" he asked, one eye on the board, the other on the other man.

"If it makes us get there any quicker, yeah."

"Then pace away. Just so long as you don't wear a hole in the decking." The pilot corrected their course a notch.

"We'll get them home," Mal said quietly, knowing Hank was covering his anxiety with humour like he always did. "I promise."

"Yeah," Hank agreed, watching all the engine indicators hovering on the red line.

* * *

"What?"

"Mmn?"

Val moved around so she could stand in front of Flynn. "That's the tenth time you've looked at the clock. What is it?"

Flynn shook his head. "Nothing. Just wondering what's taking so long."

"If the power's down, there'll be no elevators, and everyone's probably having to use the stairs, so it'll take longer to get around," Phoebe said, surprising both her sister and bodyguard.

"Um, yes, I guess it would," Flynn agreed after a moment. Still, he glanced at the clock again.

"Do you have somewhere else to be?" Val asked, her hands on her hips.

He twitched his eyes to her. "No." Then he spoiled it by adding, "But I think I should go check, find out where they are."

"Oh, no you don't." Val shook her head firmly. "You heard Auntie Frey. You stay put and look after us."

"And what if I can look after you better out there?" He pointed towards the door. "If they're right, and we're expecting pirates, then I'll be a lot more use out on the front line instead of hiding away here with you."

"And that much more likely to get yourself killed!"

"To protect you."

"We don't need that much protection!" Val took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. "Just stay here, Flynn. Please."

He gazed into her eyes, then, without warning, put his hands on her arms and pulled her closer to him, his lips crashing down onto hers.

Phoebe stared, her mouth open in shock and surprise.

When they parted, both panting for air a little, Flynn took a step back, pulling his gun and checking the magazine. "You get upstairs and stay put. Don't open the door to anyone, not unless you're damn sure you know who it is, _dong mah_?"

"Flynn –"

"_Dong luh mah_?"

Val swallowed, still tasting him in her mouth. "Okay," she whispered.

"And lock it behind me."

"Yes."

Flynn stepped to the door, then turned, his eyes finding hers. "Val, I ..." He couldn't finish, just hurried out into the corridor.

Phoebe ran to the door and closed it, turning the bolt. Then she looked at her sister. "Well, that's something I didn't think I'd ever see," she began. "And what's Freya going to say when I –"

"Phoebe," Val interrupted.

"What?"

"Shut up."

* * *

Zoe could feel the tension on board the Empress. No matter that she wasn't psychic, it was like a palpable presence, a wraith hanging over everyone's shoulders. The fact that the only light was from the red emergency strips certainly didn't help, nor the realisation that there was no comforting background hum of engine noise, imperceptible until it stopped. Now the hum was people talking quietly, scared, as if raising their voices above a whisper might bring down further troubles onto their heads. That would change, she knew. Soon enough those voices would be raised in anger instead.

A steward passed her, awkwardly buckling an unfamiliar gunbelt around his waist. He looked just about on the verge of shooting off his own toe.

At least they'd broken out the weapons – the captain couldn't be all that stupid. Hopefully Freya had managed to find the armoury too, although Zoe was glad Jayne had let her have the Feldman resting comfortingly close in the small of her back.

She turned a corner, hurrying as she saw the door to their suite. Quickly using her key, glad for once it was an old-fashioned mechanical lock, she was inside, her eyes narrowing as she realised the main salon was empty.

Drawing her gun with her left hand, she moved forward slowly. "Val? Phoebe? Flynn?" she called, checking out the room. There was no sign of intruders, nothing overturned or damaged, or ... A sound behind her had her spinning on her heel.

The door to the upper floor had opened, and the Reilly twins almost fell through.

"Auntie Zoe!" It was a measure of how frightened the girls were that Val called her 'Auntie', although she drew up short when they saw the Feldman aimed at them.

Zoe quickly pushed the gun back into her waistband. "It's okay," she said quickly. "Everything's going to be all right." She wondered if the platitude was a lie, then realised the girls were alone. "Where's Flynn?"

"He ..." Val looked at Phoebe for support, but the younger girl just shrugged. Val turned back. "He left."

"What?" Zoe felt a wave of anger wash through her. "When? Why? Were you arguing again?"

Val's temper flared. "He left," she repeated. "And in order of your questions, ten minutes, I don't know, and no. We've hardly spoken, let alone argued."

"I can vouch for that," Phoebe piped up, for once backing her sister up and not mentioning the kiss. "And he said he was going to look for Freya."

"And he left you alone."

"He told us to stay in our room, not go anywhere, and we'd be okay," Val said slowly. "I tried to stop him, Auntie Zoe, honestly I did. We both did. But he ..."

Zoe understood. She put her hand on Val's shoulder. "I know." She took a breath. "What about Inara? Isn't she back?"

"Not yet."

"Gorram it." Zoe felt torn. She wanted to go and find Flynn, possibly shoot him for leaving his charges. Maybe Inara too, if Freya had managed to find her but not make her return. Trouble was, she could do neither, not and keep the girls safe. And on a ship the size of the Empress, she could literally miss him within a few feet. She couldn't even call anyone, not with the internal comm down. Her lips tightened. Maybe they should _all_ carry a beacon, like Simon and River when they were off ship.

"Auntie Zoe?" Phoebe hadn't let go of her sister's arm.

No. She had her duty to perform, and Mal wouldn't take too kindly to her gallivanting off around the ship leaving the girls on her own. Zoe forced herself to relax. "I'm sure they'll both be back soon. And Freya," she assured them. "And I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

"What do you suppose is going on?" Inara asked, sitting on the sofa, trying to calm her heartbeat. The lights going off had been disconcerting enough, then the alarms, and now the red light was doing nothing to make her feel composed. Even the light show from outside where they'd opened the heavy drapes was just background.

"Do I look like I know?" Saffron was pacing.

"Why don't you sit down? You'll be more comfortable."

"And you'd know about that, would you?" The redhead threw her a glare but didn't stop.

_Oh, yes, I'd know,_ Inara admitted quietly. _And I will again. I promise you, Sam_. But those words stayed in her mind. "I've seen enough pregnant women, Saffron. Helped a few with their deliveries."

"So that makes you an expert?"

Inara had to smile. "I might be all you have." She glanced towards the door where her companion's bodyguard was waiting anxiously. The other man had gone to find out their situation, and so far hadn't returned.

"Oh, wonderful." Saffron groaned.

"Are you all right?" Inara asked, standing up in surprise.

"Shiny," the other woman said, her hand in the small of her back. "I just hate being pregnant."

"You must have wanted the baby."

"Durren did."

"And he forced you?"

"Well ..." Saffron sighed. "No. Not forced. But he was so pleased when he found out I was carrying his baby I couldn't exactly turn around and tell him I was getting rid of it."

"You didn't have to tell him at all."

"I know."

Inara could feel something almost wistful coming off the other woman, and pressed at the advantage. "It didn't actually occur to you, did it?"

"Of course it did!" Saffron slumped down into the chair. "I just ..."

"This baby is an innocent, and under your protection."

Saffron glared at her. "Do you always have to be right?"

Inara allowed herself a small smile. "It helps in my work as a therapist. Or being entirely wrong. That can be interesting too."

"So you don't sleep with men for money any more?" Saffron bit back, but her words were tempered by the furrows in her brow.

"Not for money, no. And only one man."

"Mal Reynolds?"

"No."

Saffron waited a moment. "You're not going to tell me, are you?"

"No."

"Fine." She pouted heavily, then the furrows returned.

"Are you sure you're all right?"

"Stop fussing!" Saffron snapped.

"Madam?" The remaining bodyguard had moved further into the room.

Saffron groaned again, bending forward at her waist.

Inara quickly put her arm around the redhead, supporting her weight. "Right, that's it. You …" She pointed at the bodyguard. "Try and find the doctor."

He glanced at Saffron, and it was a sign of the discomfort she was in that she just nodded.

"Yes, Madam." He ran out of the room.

"And you're going to sit down," Inara went on to Saffron, helping her into the armchair. "You're in labour."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"How long have you had pains?"

"It's indigestion."

"Saffron …"

"Oh, all right. A few hours."

"Then I think we'll take it as read, don't you?"

"_Cao_."

"You know, I think this time I agree with you."

* * *

Outside, in the corridor, Freya paused. From what she could feel of Inara suggested she was inside the Presidential Suite, but as she couldn't read the ex-Companion she was at a loss to know why, and it niggled. As close as they were now, like the sisters River insisted as describing them, Freya couldn't help her mind skittering around the idea that Inara was servicing someone, perhaps for old times' sake. As much as she knew Inara loved Sam, perhaps more than she'd ever loved Mal – or at least differently – there was still the possibility that flirting had turned to something more.

Freya shook her head. No. No, Inara wouldn't do that. Not for all the money in the 'verse. Still, Freya could feel the thin ice cracking a little under her feet as she knocked.

The door flung back.

"Did you find out where …" Inara's words faded to nothing except, "Oh."

"Oh, indeed." Freya pushed past her. "What the hell's going on?"

"Oh, _qi maio_."

Freya stilled. A familiar voice, made even more so by the remnants of the dream still lingering. She stepped forward to see the occupant of the chair. "Saffron?"

"Freya. How nice of you to visit." The redhead couldn't have sounded less sincere if she tried.

"_Tzao gao_," Freya swore. "Inara, I knew you were hiding something, but I thought maybe you were doing a little harmless flirting, getting it out of your system before heading home to Sam, but not this!"

Inara lifted her chin defiantly. "What I choose to do with my time is entirely my own affair."

"But Saffron?" Freya was aghast.

"Hey, I'm right here," the redhead complained, glowering, her arms trying to cross themselves irritably but missing because of her bulk.

"You, keep quiet." Freya pointed a loaded finger at her. "You've caused more trouble in a single lifetime than ten other people."

"This is _my_ suite!" She glanced around the darkened room, eerily lit by the red emergency glows and highlighted by the refracted starlight bouncing bluely off a close fragment of The Halo.

Freya wasn't impressed. "And this time you're in the same boat as the rest of us." Her eyes narrowed. "Unless you had something to do with this turn of events?"

"How?"

"Not sure." She turned back to Inara. "Get back to our rooms. Kaylee's off trying to help the engineers get some life back, and Zoe's with her, at least for the time being. Flynn's looking after the girls, and I'd feel a lot happier if you were back with them."

"And he's doing what you told him? After what you said?"

"I'm looking out for Val!"

"You're interfering. You're not their mother, Frey."

"I never said I was."

Saffron had a half-smile on her face enjoying the spectacle of the two friends facing off.

"You and Mal think you can mother the 'verse." Inara almost snorted, knowing it was most unladylike and barely able to stop herself. She also knew she was only acting this way because she felt guilty. "You deserve each other."

"If you weren't trying to insult me I'd take that as a compliment." Freya shook her head. "Look, this isn't the time to argue. I need you to get back to the girls. I think it's pretty certain we're about to have company."

Inara felt a frisson of fear travel up her spine. "What?"

"This wasn't an accident, Inara. Someone meant for us to be stranded, right here, right now."

No matter she wanted to deny it, Inara could feel the truth of the words. "What are you going to do?"

"Take you back to our suite. Then find the armoury. I don't like being naked. Then I'm going to –"

"Oh, no." Saffron's voice interrupted.

Freya span on her heel to look at her. "What?"

"Oh, nothing. I just think my waters have broken." Saffron looked down at the chair, at the slowly growing puddle by her feet.

"You're in labour?" It took a lot to surprise Freya, at least when she was in full warrior-woman mode, but this had.

"Yes," Inara confirmed. "And I'm not leaving her until the doctor arrives."

"Inara –"

"And don't even bother trying to talk me out of it. She's a woman, Freya. She needs our help."

"_Our_ help?"

* * *

The knock sounded loudly through the suite, and Chester looked up from his calculations. "Let him in."

Aiden glared at him, but held back on the words amounting to 'And what did your last slave die of?', since he knew exactly what it was, having watched. It was pretty messy, too. So instead he stomped to the door, throwing it back and letting their accomplice inside. "You took your time."

"I couldn't leave straight away."

"You're working for us, not them."

"I know."

Aiden lifted one eyebrow at the odd tone from the other man, but didn't comment, just filed it away for future reference.

Chester closed his notebook and glanced at the clock on the wall. "It's time we got going."

"Just … don't hurt anyone you don't have to."

"Like your little friends?" Aiden sneered.

"Yes."

Chester stood up, his bulk seeming to fill the room. "That isn't up to you to decide. You're getting well paid, so you do what I say. Understood?"

There was a pause, then, "Understood."

"Good." Chester turned to Aiden. "The Dragon will be here any time, so let's go and get our prize and be ready."

"And the safe in the Purser's office?"

"Oh, don't worry. We'll be collecting those little trifles as well, including anything the passengers might like to contribute."

"Good." Aiden didn't add, but might as well have said it aloud for all he cared, that maybe he'd be able to make something on this deal that Chester didn't know about.

* * *

"No." Freya glared. "No. This is not happening. You are not going to go into labour right now."

"I don't think I have a choice," Saffron said through gritted teeth as a proper contraction rippled through her.

Inara took a small, delicately engraved timepiece from her pocket. "Freya, you have to help me."

"Why?"

"Believe me, you're not exactly the person I'd have chosen to be with me right now," Saffron said, panting.

"The feeling is entirely mutual."

"Freya," Inara said faintly, disapprovingly.

The older woman looked at her. "You do realise what she's done, don't you?"

"And that means … what, exactly? Right here, right now? Because she needs us."

"I don't," Saffron put in, but was ignored.

"You're a woman. You've had two children. And I know Mal would have Serenity running with his progeny if he could, so don't try and tell me you don't know what she's going through. You have to help."

Freya's eyes were narrowed, her lips set in a tight, hard line, but after only a few seconds she said, "Gorram it, 'Nara."

Inara had to stop herself from smiling. She sounded exactly like Mal. "Good."

"So you're not coming to blows?" Saffron asked. "Pity. I could have done with a diversion right now." The contraction had ended, but she still felt very uncomfortable.

"No blows," Freya agreed. "But there is something I'd like to say to you." She stepped closer. "Saffron, I don't like you. I don't like you a lot. In fact, I'm pretty sure that I can say I don't like you the most I've never liked someone ever."

"Really."

"Really. You're a lying, scheming manipulative _puo foo_ with about as much sense of loyalty and honour as a cockroach. All in all you're a right pain in my _pigu_."

"Why don't you say what you really think?" Saffron asked scathingly.

"But …" Freya took a deep breath. "But you're pregnant, and that little one inside you is innocent of all charges. And for that reason, and that reason only, I'll help you."

"Please, I wouldn't want you to do something against your nature."

"You just shut that mouth of yours and we'll be fine."

"Are you done with your sermonising?"

Suddenly Freya was in her face, leaning on the arms of the chair so close there wasn't a breath between them. "Oh, no. I'm just getting to the good part."

To give her credit, Saffron managed to roll her eyes and sigh mightily. "I thought you might be."

"You stay away from Mal. You go anywhere near him, even think about doing anything involving him, and I'll forget I'm a lady and you'll be flat on your back, pregnant or not. _Dong mah_?"

"I really think –"

"Do you understand?"

"Fine. Shiny. Whatever you want."

"Good." Freya stood upright. "Then the first thing we need to do is …" She paused. "What the hell was that?"

"What?"

"Didn't you feel it? Something just locked on." She tried to peer through the cotton-candy invading her mind, and, just as with Inara, for a second there was a clear patch, but what she saw didn't make her feel any more comfortable. She looked at Inara. "We have to go. Now."

"Where?" the ex-companion asked.

"Back to our suite."

Saffron shook her head. "I'm not going anywhere."

"You can be stubborn later." Freya took hold of her arm. "Right now we're leaving."

"Why?"

"Because I've got the crazy feeling they're coming after you."

"Me?"

"Friend or enemy, Saffron?"

"I have no idea!"

"Right." Freya lifted her to her feet.

"Wait!" Saffron said quickly. "My bodyguards went to see what was going on. Hadn't we better … leave them a note or something?"

Freya was about to suggest something probably impossible, and certainly illegal on several planets, when she stopped. There was the noise of a scuffle in the corridor, and she reached for her gun, then swore as she realised her hip was empty. Looking around, she saw a steak knife on the tray left over from dinner, and picked it up. Better than nothing, she considered.

"Freya?" Inara asked nervously.

"Ssh."

There was a knock, but Freya put her finger to her lips. _Stay quiet_, she was saying.

"Inara?" A recognisable voice filtered through the heavy wood.

"Flynn?" Freya couldn't believe her ears.

"Frey, is that you?"

"What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you. Come on, open the door."

"I heard a fight."

"Someone got in my way," the young man insisted. "Open the door."

Glancing at the others, a smile forming on her lips, she undid the lock, began to pull the door towards her, then something tickled her senses. But it was too late. A heavy body pushed through, taking her off balance. She staggered, but in the moment it took to get her footing a gun appeared in her face, a Corazon she recognised all too well. Her eyes travelled past the hand holding it, up to the man.

"Flynn?" she said again, this time in disbelief.

"Drop it, Freya," he said, watching her face but seeing the knife point, his gun not moving an inch. "Please."


	21. Chapter 21

Freya stared at Flynn, almost waiting for the gun to evaporate, for him to say it was a joke in very bad taste, that this wasn't what she thought it was. Only he didn't.

"Drop it, Frey. I don't want to shoot you."

She glanced past him, seeing the reason for the scuffle she'd heard a few minutes before. Saffron's two bodyguards lay on the floor, face down, still breathing but unlikely to be waking any time soon. Blood oozed from the mouth of one of them. They must have arrived back at the same moment, walking into an ambush. Just like she had.

"Flynn, don't do this," she said quietly.

"It's too late," he whispered, barely enunciating. "Put the knife down."

"Fine." Carefully, not taking her eyes from his face, she bent forward, letting the blade fall the last few inches to the thick carpet.

"Pity," the man said behind Flynn. "I'd like to've seen what happened next."

Freya's attention flickered to him, then snapped into focus. "Aiden Lau?"

He smiled without humour. "So glad you remember me." He pushed past, his black hair shining in the light as if it was on fire, a gun in his hand.

"You know him?" Saffron asked, holding her belly, Inara at her side.

"I wish I didn't," Freya said bitterly. Matty and Jolene's wedding on Ezra, and the crew's decision to go treasure hunting whipped through her mind. Then the Laus, taking the gold coins from the Kugelmann hoard off them. They'd barely escaped with their lives. "He's a crook. Him and his brothers."

"Mrs Reynolds," Aiden chided. "Coming from you that's almost a compliment."

"Believe me, it isn't meant to be." She stood tall. "What do you want?"

"Not you, if that's what you're wondering. Until a little while ago I didn't even know you were on board." His gaze swept her up and down. "It's someone else entirely."

She wanted to shower, wash away just the idea of his touch, but contented herself with rubbing the palm of her right hand down her pants. "Who?" she asked, although she was certain what the answer was going to be.

"The other Mrs Reynolds, of course."

Freya didn't turn, didn't need to – she heard the sharp intake of breath from both the other women. Someone stood up behind her.

"You're not taking her," Inara said defiantly. "She's in labour. She needs medical assistance, and I'm sure you're not going to give it to her."

For a moment a flicker of indecision clouded Aiden's face, then he shrugged. "That isn't a problem. I suppose that's why he's here." He signalled someone still in the corridor.

His younger brother moved into the doorway, Dr Barkin wrapped in his arms, one hand across his mouth to stop him yelling. "He bit me," Jarrett complained, and indeed they could see teeth marks in the pad below his thumb.

"So you can get a shot later." Aiden didn't care. All he could see what the money waiting to go into his pocket. "Doc, it looks like you have a patient."

Jarrett pushed Barkin forwards, into the room. The doctor staggered, falling against Aiden, who thrust him away, snarling at the man.

Freya acted. She jabbed her fist into Flynn's midriff, hearing his breath whoosh from his lungs as he doubled over. Grabbing Inara's hand, she ducked under him, kicking out and catching Aiden on the knee as she went past. He yelled, more in anger than in pain, but fell backwards against the wall.

She pushed Inara into the corridor through the gap created. "Run," she ordered.

Inara found her feet obeying even without her will intervening, and she started towards the stairs, hoping Freya was right behind her.

Unfortunately her friend was just a little too late. Jarrett grabbed at her, catching her arm long enough to slow her down, and Aiden swung, his gun hitting Freya on the side of the head. She collapsed to the deck.

In the same movement he'd used to stop Freya, Aiden brought his weapon around, aiming at Inara's fleeing back. Only Flynn got there first. He pushed Aiden to one side, bringing his own gun to bear, pulling the trigger. The sound of the gunshot was very loud, the smell of cordite strong in every nostril, but the bullet hit the panelling a good two feet above Inara's head as she turned the corner.

"You call yourself a mercenary?" Aiden growled, nursing his knee.

Flynn collapsed back against the doorway, rubbing his belly. "Aim was off," he said.

"Do you want me to go after her?" Jarrett asked.

"After who?" Chester appeared from down the other end of the corridor, striding towards them. "What the hell's going on?"

Jarrett looked at Aiden, who said quickly, "Nobody. Just one of the woman's companions."

"Is she armed?"

"I doubt it."

"Then don't bother. She can't do anything beyond tell the crew, and they're going to pretty much know something bad is happening by now." He cocked his head slightly as the sound of very distant gunfire filtered through, and a cold smile cracked his features. "The boys are already on board."

Jarrett almost looked relieved. "Sure, Chester."

The older Lau adjusted his gunbelt. "Where is she?"

* * *

"Mal, are you okay?" Simon was awkwardly trying to get down to the captain, who was sprawled on the deck at the bottom of the bridge steps.

"I'm fine." Mal levered himself into a sitting position. "Don't fuss, doc."

"I've never seen you fall before."

"I try not to do it when people are about."

"Did you slip?"

"Something like that." Mal looked up, seeing River in the doorway to the kitchen, the light behind her making her seem to glow. She nodded slowly, her eyes huge dark pools visible even in the near silhouette. "Something like that," he repeated, getting to his feet. She knew, as he had, had felt that flash as Freya was hit, but not knowing by whom or with what. Just that she was down. Unconscious.

"You really should come to the infirmary," Simon insisted. "Just in case."

"I'm okay." Mal brushed the young man's hands away. "Nothing you can do about it. Nothing at all." He kicked the hatch above his bunk open, quickly dropping down the ladder.

Simon half-turned, looked at his sister. "Freya?" he murmured.

River had to smile. Sometimes he wasn't quite the boob she always likened him to. "Alive," she promised.

"But in trouble."

"They all are."

Simon nodded. "I'll get my gun."

* * *

Chester stared at the woman on the floor, somehow familiar despite her back being to him. "What's this about?"

"Another friend," Aiden said, dismissing Freya. "That's who we came for." He pointed to Saffron.

Chester advanced into the room, looking down at her. "And this?" he asked, nodding towards the man at her side who was even now palpating her belly gently.

"The ship's doc," Jarrett explained. "Seems like she's going to have the baby."

"Really." Chester took hold of Saffron's arm, dragging her to her feet. "Is that right?"

Saffron wanted to play him, pretend to be the innocent, give him the eyes that would make him believe up was down and black was white. Trouble was, she was pretty sure he wouldn't be taken in, so she did what she knew she shouldn't. She spat in his face.

Chester didn't touch the mucous rolling down his cheek. Instead a smile that resembled nothing more than a sneer lifted his lips. "He said you were feisty."

"Who?" Saffron demanded. "What do you want with me?"

"Not us, darling," Aiden put in.

Chester nodded slowly. "And he's going to be so very glad to see you again."

"No …" Saffron went pale, all the blood rushing from her skin and making her as white as milk. She began to struggle against his grip.

Chester back-handed her, sending her staggering into Dr Barkin's arms. "You're a doctor?"

"Y … yes. And my patient needs to be hospitalised."

"Isn't going to happen." Chester laughed. "You're going to do your job and look after her. And that baby." He glanced at his brothers. "Aiden, make sure the boys are having fun, and tell them they have an hour. Then we leave, with or without them."

"It doesn't give them long."

"A minute more and they can take their chances with the rest of the crew and passengers and blow up. I think they'll be back in time, don't you?" He took hold of Saffron's arm again. "I'm going to make sure our prize here is safely locked away." He walked out, dragging her behind him, Barkin bleating along in the rear.

Aiden fumed. "The way he tells me what to do … one of these days …"

"I'll do it," Flynn offered. "Tell your crew to hurry."

"You will?" Aiden looked surprised.

"Sure. Maybe there are a few trifles I can pick up on the way."

"Just don't let Chester see 'em," Aiden warned. "He'll take 'em off you, and likely your hand as well."

"He won't." Flynn slid out of the room.

"What about her?" Jarrett asked, looking down at Freya lying unconscious at their feet.

"She comes with us."

"Chester won't like that."

"We'll put her in the hold. He won't know until it's too late. And I've got a few ideas I want to try out before we sell her."

"And that pair?" Jarrett pointed towards the unconscious bodyguards.

Aiden smiled.

* * *

Watching Cho work, Kaylee realised he had earned his title of Chief Engineer with good reason. Not only did he know every inch of the workings of the Empress, but he was able to manage more than half a dozen jobs at once, giving help where it was needed, disembowelling useless display stations to cannibalise their innards, as well as rewiring some of the trickiest and smallest units she'd ever seen.

"We're lucky," one of the other members of the crew said to her at one point as they swallowed a hasty cup of warm water, keeping his voice low. "Most liners don't have anyone like him on board. They mostly have a skeleton crew, and rely on when they dock for any repairs."

"That's crazy," she'd whispered back. "What if something goes wrong?"

"Small stuff, we're trained to deal with. But most liners have so many back-ups and redundancies now, it takes a bomb going off to pretty much dent anything."

"Like now."

"Yeah. So the Chief is considered a dinosaur. The only reason he's not been put out to pasture is because of his reputation with some of the members of the board."

"Well, I for one am glad he's here."

The man had grinned. "Me too. Come on. I need some help with the stabilisers."

* * *

Zoe stared at the room, very definitely and most defiantly empty. She swore under her breath.

"They must have taken Freya too," Inara said from the doorway.

"Yeah." Her eyes narrowed. "'Nara, can you go check the other level?" she asked. "I'm not holding out any hope, but they might by hiding."

Inara nodded, gathering her courage back around her. It had almost deserted her only a short while ago as she'd panted out what had happened to Zoe and the girls.

"I didn't know what to do," she'd said, tears stinging her eyes.

"The right thing," Zoe said. "You did the right thing. If you'd gone back, they'd've taken you too, you know that."

"Yes, but –"

"No buts." Zoe glanced at Val and Phoebe. "You stay here," she ordered. "Lock yourselves in your rooms and don't come out, okay?"

"But Flynn wouldn't do that," Val insisted, tears sliding down her already reddened cheeks. "I know him, he wouldn't –"

"We don't know him," Zoe said, sharper than she had intended. Tempering her tone, she added quickly, "But we'll ask him. When we find him. For now, do as I say."

The girls nodded, clinging onto each other as the two women left the suite. It was only outside that Zoe let loose with a series of inventive Chinese curses.

"He didn't seem happy about it," Inara said, wondering why she was defending him. "I don't know why he did it."

"Money," Zoe answered shortly.

Inara hadn't known what to say, and now did as she was asked, and hurried up the stairs to the upper rooms, leaving Zoe on her own in the main salon.

Zoe waited until she was out of sight before taking a step back and dropping to her heels, lightly touching the carpet where she'd stood. Her fingers came away wet, almost greasy with something horribly familiar. The redness didn't really show in the emergency lighting, but at least she now understood why the floor had felt wrong. It was virtually invisible on the dark pile, but she could just about see a trail leading to the closet in the corner. Taking a deep breath, she stepped closer and opened the door, steeling herself to what she might find.

* * *

"You're staying put," Chester said, pushing the door closed. "And this will be locked to make sure."

"No, wait!" Saffron pleaded. "I'm claustrophobic! You can't do this! I'll have a panic –" Her protestations were cut off by the metal clanging shut, a final punctuation mark being the lock engaging with a near-terminal click. "_Cao ni zi zhong shi ba dai_!" she shouted impotently. Suddenly all the anger drained out of her, and she slumped back to the deck. "Damn."

"Are you really claustrophobic?" Barkin asked, going down on his heels next to her.

"No. I just thought it might help. Maybe he'd leave us somewhere else." She let her head fall back against the wall and sighed mightily.

"Are you okay?"

"You mean apart from being pregnant, kidnapped and locked up with a moron? Oh, I'm peachy." Sarcasm dripped from every word.

"I'm only trying to help."

Saffron looked at him, realising it probably wouldn't do to antagonise him, since he was the only assistance she was likely to get. "I know," she said, managing a small, hurt smile.

A faint red tinge coloured his cheeks. "That's all right. I expect it's your hormones."

"I expect so."

"Although what those men think I can do without my equipment, I'm not sure."

"I think they're expecting you to hold my hand." A contraction started to build. "How many babies have you actually delivered?"

"Actually? You mean as primary?"

"That would be my question, yes."

"Actually … not many," Barkin admitted. "Mostly I just stood by as the midwives did the actual work. But women do this sort of thing all the time, don't they? I mean, it's encoded into their DNA, in their genes, being able to – ow!" The yell at the end was caused by Saffron grabbing his hand and squeezing so hard he could hear the bones grate.

"You have a whole lot to learn," she managed to pant out.

* * *

Zoe almost breathed a sigh of relief as the red light fell on the bodies of two men, tossed like trash against the back wall. One was turned towards her, and she could make out the bullet hole in his forehead, centre and just above his eyebrows. He stared at her accusingly. The other faced away, but was no less gruesome, half the back of his head missing.

Not even a twitch showed on her face. She'd seen too much death, too many bodies mangled far worse for it to affect her, but she said a silent prayer over them, as she had always done, despite the fact that neither of them were known to her. She could hear Inara coming back and closed the door quietly, taking a pace away so it wasn't obvious what she'd been doing.

"Nobody up there," Inara reported, more in control of herself now. Her poise was back, if a little dented.

"Didn't think there would be," Zoe said. "But we had to check."

"I know." She looked around. "Did you find anything down here?"

"Nope." It wasn't really a lie, and if it was less than the truth, at least Inara wouldn't know what she had been treading in, or wonder what other matter might be hidden underfoot.

Suspecting no dissembling Inara asked, "What will you do? Look for them?"

Zoe considered for the space of two heart beats. "The Empress is too big. I could pass by within a couple of feet and not know."

"She said a ship had locked on."

"Probably the Golden Dragon, if you're right and it's the Laus."

"That's what Freya said. They're probably heading back there."

"We've got the girls to protect." But Zoe was wavering.

"I'll stay with them," Inara offered. "You try and find Freya. And Saffron."

"That woman probably has Chester Lau eating out of the palm of her hand by now, but …" She nodded, just once. "I'll see you back. Make sure you're locked in."

"I can …" Inara was about to say she could look after herself, but the evidence from the evening seemed to be against it, so instead she finished, "Yes, Zoe."

Opening the door to the corridor Zoe ushered the other woman out, only glancing back once at the closet. Inara was right – she had to at least try and find Freya. It wasn't often that the psychic talked mentally to anyone other than Mal and River, but she had been known to at least drop hints into the rest of the crews' minds, and now the silence was ominous. The Laus had a bad reputation, and if they were already cleaning up after themselves … She hurried out after Inara.

* * *

"I can't see it."

"Where are you?"

"By the exchangers."

"A bit further. About ten feet or so."

Kaylee walked on, then realised she should have seen it. "Got it," she called to Mullings, the sub-engineer who'd been detailed to work with her.

"Shiny." He sounded like he was inside the transducer array, which he probably was, since he had to reset the meters before she could do her bit.

"Just give me a sec and we should be able to flush the system."

"'Kay."

It was only the work of a moment to remove the front panel to the fuel converters, the screws coming free surprisingly easily. Setting the cover against the wall, she picked up the torch and shone its powerful beam inside. Her body stilled.

It seemed like a lifetime but was probably only a couple of minutes when Mullings walked up behind her. "Miss Kaylee?" he asked. "We're all ready to go if you're … are you okay?"

She didn't move. "Go get Mr Cho."

"What?"

She half turned, really slowly, her eyes seeming huge in the dim light. "Go and find Mr Cho. Bring him back here, as soon as you can."

"Why?"

"Just do it."

She hadn't raised her voice, but it was as if she'd shouted as loud as she could. Mullings felt a frisson of fear drip down his spine like ice water. "Yes, Ms Kaylee," he said, already running.

Kaylee turned back, the torch still illuminating the large grey tube attached to the relays, a small, internally lit display counting down, seeming to gain speed as she watched.

* * *

Mal strapped his gunbelt around his waist, tying the strips of leather about his thigh. With the ease of long practice he drew the firearm, sighting down the barrel. He swung around, stopping as he realised he was facing the nursery, Jesse's domain now that Ethan had moved to his own room. The children were all with Bethie, each giving the other the support they needed, while here he was, without the support _he_ needed. He slid the gun back into its holster, with just the whisper of leather on metal.

His eyes fell on a capture sitting on the table and he reached out to touch it, but drew back at the last moment. He knew what it contained, the images that would always be burned on the back of his mind. His wedding. That red dress she wore. Him in that ridiculous suit. Before Ethan, before Jesse ...

Closing his eyes he leaned on the table, every ounce of his strength of will behind the thought that he sent out. _Frey_.

He waited.

Was it just his imagination, or did her really hear it? One word, just the sensation of his beloved wife's voice saying his name.

_Mal._

Whatever it was, it seemed to fill him with a new sense of purpose. He stood up, opened his eyes. _We're coming, xin gan_, he sent into the infinite. _We're coming._

The com crackled, then Hank's voice filled the small room. _"Mal."_

* * *

"It's what I think it is, ain't it?" Kaylee was standing a pace away, letting Cho examine the device for himself.

"Pretty much."

"It's bad."

"Yeah." He backed out. "The fuel cells sit right behind that wall. Whoever set this knew what they were doing – if it goes up it'll take most of the gorram ship with it."

Kaylee's imagination threw up a far too accurate picture, tinted with still fresh images of Road Runner, and she had to swallow. "Yeah," she murmured.

"Can we move it?"

"No," Kaylee said quickly. "I took a look. There's some kinda device looks like it might have an inertia switch inside. We try and shift it, it'll blow."

"You know something about bombs?" Cho was surprised.

"I've had some experience." Another series of memory flashes whipped through her mind, from helping Freya construct aerial mines all the way to blowing up an entire AI ship, but she pushed them away. "But I ain't an expert."

"Well, you're about all we've got." He gazed at her. "Can you defuse it?"

"Who, me?" Her voice squeaked unnaturally.

"You. Kaylee, I ain't got anyone else knows a damn about this kinda thing. I can go rummaging around inside it, and I'll gladly stay and help you, but if I try to do something on my own I'm as likely to send the ship into hell." He glanced at the numbers. "And time's ticking."


	22. Chapter 22

It was a locker, pure and simple, situated in the secondary cargo bay on board the Golden Dragon. About two feet by three, there wasn't enough room to lie down, and barely enough to sit comfortably, particularly as the struts where shelves could be hung were digging into her back. The only light came through a grille in the door, about head height, but so far Freya hadn't managed to get the strength together to stand up and look through.

The blow that had knocked her out had made her woozy, and try as she might she couldn't send her senses beyond the door. The headache didn't help, either.

Lifting her hand, her fingers touched a lump that felt the size of the Heisenberg volcano on Isis, although it was probably no bigger than the Caradoc foothills. At least it wasn't spewing lava, although the sick sensation it gave her was all too familiar.

"Flynn, I am going to kill you," she murmured.

"I'd really rather you didn't."

She looked up sharply, then had to wait for the 'verse to stop spinning. "Flynn?"

"Yes." His face appeared at the grille, peering down at her. "Sorry."

"Sorry?" She managed to lever herself to her feet, holding onto both sides of the locker to keep her balance. "You're sorry?"

"Yes?" He looked ... odd. "It was a job, Frey. I didn't know you'd ... I didn't know."

"You work for the Laus!"

He knew that if she could have got to him, if she wasn't locked up in the cage, she'd have hurt him by now. "They were hiring, Freya, and paying good money. And I ain't above a little larceny. Neither are you."

"Maybe not, but we've never kidnapped anyone," she hissed.

"It's just a job."

"Well, not any more."

Something passed by the thick plexiglass window, cutting out the light display from The Halo for a moment.

* * *

"I'm picking something up," Hank said, his fingers flying across the console.

"What? Is it the Empress?" Mal leaned forward, trying to see over his shoulder.

"No. Or rather, yes, but not just her. The Empress has company." He was staring at the display screen.

"Who is it?"

"More like, who are they." Hank made a minute adjustment. "I don't recognise the one that's just arrived, but the one that's already locked on ... that one I know."

"Tell me."

"It looks like the Golden Dragon."

"You sure?"

"The Halo may be playing havoc with the instruments, but I never forget a ship."

Mal swore under his breath. River had been right. Someone they knew. "Can you keep something between them and us?"

"For a while. We're coming up behind a pretty big chunk of rock, but once we're closer …"

"Just do what you can." For once Mal kept the temper out of his voice, acutely aware it wasn't just his own wife in jeopardy. "And the stranger?"

"An Interceptor. Viral class."

Someone had an odd sense of humour, Mal considered, calling a ship after a germ. Still, it could be just as deadly. Coming up closer in size to a shuttle than his own Firefly, an Interceptor was small, fast and armed. Its only saving grace, as far as he was concerned, was the fact that it had space for only a limited crew, and was perfectly capable of being flown by one man. More than three and it became somewhat cramped.

"Has it seen us?" he asked.

"No indication. The angle they're coming in at, we're pretty close to the fragment and they're not looking for us ..."

_Yet._ There was definitely an unspoken _yet_ hanging out there in that sentence. "How long 'til they are?"

Hank glanced up, looking unhappy. "Ten minutes?"

"Right."

"You ever think we've bitten off more than we can chew?"

"You think we have a choice?" Mal's brain had been working at speed, conjuring various possible plans of action and abandoning most of them. Now he lifted down the com handset. "Jayne, get your _pigu_ to the bridge. We have to –"

"Already here." The big man stood in the doorway. "What do you need?"

"Get shuttle one ready for launch. And lots of firepower."

The ex-merc's lips twitched. Now _that_ was a phrase he liked. Still, better to be safe than sorry. "Grenades?"

Mal went to say no, then glanced back at the screen. "You know, what the hell. Yeah. Low yield, but they might come in handy."

This time Jayne grinned. "No problem."

"And one other thing …"

* * *

Freya shook her head, then wished she hadn't. "Flynn, you have to do something. Stop this."

"I can't."

"Flynn ..."

The Golden Dragon shuddered.

"Gorramit." Freya recognised the tremor. "Another ship's locked on."

Hissing indicated air equalising somewhere close.

Flynn nodded towards the airlock sitting unnoticed in the corner. "The General."

"Who?"

"The man ultimately paying our wages."

She leaned her head against the grille. "Flynn, I have a headache. Can you explain in words of one syllable?"

"He's bought the woman. Chester said he's her father."

Freya's mind flashed painfully to the day of her wedding, or rather the night following the ceremony, when Saffron had had Mal arrested on charges of bigamy and tried to make him the fall guy – again. Inara had been tasked with finding out what she could about the redhead ... "He's here?"

Flynn nodded. "He wanted to take delivery in person." There was no discernible expression on his face, but somehow he gave the impression of being very uncomfortable about the whole thing.

"_Cao_." It hadn't been much, just Saffron's real name, and the fact that her father had commanded the Alliance forces on Hera, making the bare handful of Browncoats who survived wait for two weeks while he discussed 'terms'. He was General Sean Harrington, and his daughter, despite the many names she'd gone by since, had been born Erin Rhiannon. Freya had never told Mal, unsure of what his reaction might be, but it had been enough to persuade Saffron to drop the charges against him. "So he's come for his daughter."

"No. His grandson."

"What?"

"According to Aiden Lau, he doesn't give a shit about Saffron. He disowned her a long time ago. But this kid ... he paid a lot of money to get proof of a boy, and he intends to take the child, raise it his way."

She grabbed the grille. "Flynn, you can't allow this to happen. Whatever I think of Saffron, what she's done in the past, she's the baby's mother."

"Freya –"

"You can't let him do what your grandfather did to you."

His face finally showed some emotion, his face paling beneath his tan, anger colouring his voice. "That's low."

"Your mother was forced to give you up against her will. Do you hate her so much that you're willing to let someone else do the same?"

"Frey, I –"

Then it was too late.

The door opposite the window slammed open and Chester Lau strode into the small bay, two men at his back. He was surprisingly light on his feet for a big man, but he jerked to a halt just inside the door. "What the _diyu_ are you doing here, Youngblood?"

Flynn kept his cool. "Talking."

"Who to?" Chester took another step forward, and his face darkened with anger as he saw who was inside the locker. "You." Realisation dawned. "You were the woman in the suite. On the floor."

"Unfortunately."

"_Mei you muqin de xiao gou_."

Freya smiled slightly. "The feeling's mutual, believe me."

"How did you ..." He stopped, the answer laying itself fully out in his mind. "Aiden. That _hwoon dahn_. One of these days he's going to do something really stupid and I'll shoot him myself."

"Such brotherly love. It's a joy to see." Sarcasm dripped from every word.

The airlock in the corner interrupted them, groaning slightly as it slid open.

* * *

Kaylee was on her knees inside the console, letting her senses listen. It's what she did sometimes with Serenity, late at night, when she knew something was wrong but her girl wasn't telling her what. She'd dawdle finishing the washing up, until everyone had gone to bed, then stand in front of the turning heart, and just wait.

River always said she was a potential, that it came out in her gift with technology, that while her mother had a talent for foretelling the future in a teacup, Kaylee herself could hear anything mechanical.

Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't, and just occasionally Serenity lashed out and bit her. This time, though, it was like finding a bad tooth. She could feel it, touch the shape, even make it hurt by wiggling it, but it wasn't letting her know what to do about it. So, time to use more conventional methods.

She reached out, her fingertips tracing the metal bands holding the main tube secure. They seemed solid, possibly cold-welded into place. It would take a lot of force to pry it free, and since she was sure there was an anti-tamper mechanism in place … She moved to the tube itself. Apart from the numerical display – already a lot closer to zero – the device was featureless, although there was an indentation on the left end, suggesting some kind of tiny receiver, so that meant that it was probably remotely activated. It might also mean it could blow at any time if someone chose, although that sort of made the timer redundant.

Wires ran from the tube itself through the cabling to another grey box just to the left, also fixed firmly to the back wall. That at least looked like it might have an access panel, but she was also pretty sure a motion sensor was inside.

Mullings panted up. "Here," he said, eyeing the open panel and Kaylee's feet sticking out from inside.

"Shiny." Kaylee scooted out and grabbed the device from his hand, switching it on and feeling it power up.

"What did you send him for?" Cho asked, curiosity itching at him.

"Passive scanner from the infirmary." She grinned as the screen lit up. "It might see deep enough to let me figure out what we can do without trippin' anything nasty."

"And if it does? Trip something nasty, I mean."

Kaylee gave a brief if slightly nervous laugh. "Well, we're so close to the bomb, I guarantee we won't know anything about it."

Cho swallowed. "I guess not." Still, he was impressed by this young woman's inner steel, her enthusiasm even in the face of a possibly painful and certainly fiery death. "And you thought of this ... how?"

"My husband's a medic," Kaylee said, most of her attention on the tiny calibration bar. "I said, right?"

"That you did." And about her kids, her friends, her captain ... all in all little Ms Kaylee had talked for what seemed like hours, but had very carefully not used any kind of description that might alert anyone to them, which suggested to him that sometimes they trod the grey line between legalities. For which he, for one, was pretty glad. No matter that he had experience of over a dozen ships, he knew nothing about bombs. "You just carry on," he said quietly.

* * *

There was no ceremony, no piping aboard – although Freya could swear someone, somewhere was imagining just that – not even any guards, just a supremely confident man stepping through the airlock, tall, upright, his buzz-cropped red hair turning steel grey at the temples, his dark blue suit expensive and handmade. Even if Freya hadn't known his rank, his military bearing shouted that this wasn't a mere private. Even a sergeant wouldn't have had quite such a look of disdain either, nor a lieutenant the almost permanent sneer. "Lau."

Even from her disadvantaged viewpoint inside the locker Freya could see Chester bridle slightly at the use of his last name and no honorific, but he kept it to a minimum.

"General."

"Where's my daughter?" He made it sound as if she was of little account, which to him she probably was.

"Where's the rest of my money?" Chester countered.

A tight smile, totally devoid of humour, threatened to move Harrington's lips. "Always business?"

"Always."

Harrington reached into his jacket, as the men at Chester's back stiffened. "It's all right," the General said, pausing. "I'm assuming your boss would prefer cash and not a funds transfer."

Chester nodded, and his men lowered their guns an inch. "All too easy to cancel," he agreed.

"Indeed." Harrington completed the move, drawing a finely tooled notecase from his inside pocket. Holding it out, he added, "And of course I could kill you all, if I so chose."

"Yet you don't have any guards with you."

"I don't need guards." This time Harrington allowed the smile to show, and the air temperature seemed to drop, something more than just a threat in his words. "Still, nobody's threatening anyone else. Are they?"

"No," Chester agreed. He took the wallet, feeling the smoothness of best quality leather beneath his fingertips. Flipping it open, his eyes gleamed at the number of very high denomination bills folded inside. He riffled through their corners, counting quickly.

"Don't you trust me?" Harrington asked, amused.

"No." Finally satisfied that he held a small fortune in his hands, Chester slid the notecase into his own pocket.

"That's mine," Harrington pointed out.

"I'm sure you can afford another one."

"Probably." The General squared his shoulders. "Now, your side of the deal."

"Of course." Chester signalled, and a young woman was pushed into view, a man at her side, supporting her.

Harrington looked her up and down, the great swell at her belly, the staining on the floral dress she wore. "Erin."

"Father." Saffron almost spat the word.

"And in just the position I expected of you."

"_Liou kou shui de hou zi_."

"Ah, still the sweet little girl I remember. I think I've come just in time." He looked at Chester. "Put her on board."

"No, look, she needs medical attention," Barkin insisted, feeling his charge pulling back.

"Who's this?" the General demanded.

Chester shrugged. "Her doctor. Your daughter's in labour."

Harrington's eyebrows twitched. "My grandchild is coming?"

"That's right." Chester nodded, not surprised that the other man wasn't interested in his own off-spring. In ways he didn't really want to consider, they were very alike, and he wondered just how long the woman would survive once she'd given birth. Apparently the same notion had occurred to the redhead, because despite being between contractions, she was looking very scared. "You might need a nurse, too," he went on, indicating the locker. "You can have her for free."

Harrington stepped up to the grille and peered inside. "A friend of yours?"

"Something like that."

"Yeah, right," Freya muttered.

"I could do with the help," Barkin admitted, holding Saffron upright.

"Fine." Harrington turned to Flynn. "You. Put her on my ship."

Chester reached out and picked up a pair of cuffs. "You'll need these." He input the code to open the locker on the keypad, and the door swung open.

Freya stepped into the light, glaring at him. "You don't really think this is over, do you?" she asked.

"I'm not the one in chains."

Flynn moved forward. "Sorry," he mouthed, snapping the metal around her wrists.

"At least don't let them hurt the others," she murmured.

"I'll try."

"How touching," Harrington sneered. "But I don't have time to –"

The internal com squawked. _"Boss, there's a ship coming up!"_

Chester didn't allow his personal feelings to get in the way of business, but even he felt his stomach twist. He snapped the switch by the door. "Alliance?"

"_Nope. Looks like an old Firefly."_

"Firefly?" _Cao_. Reynolds. He could see Freya grinning in triumph. "Take it out."

"_Yes, boss."_

"No!" Freya launched herself forwards, not sure what she was going to do, but knowing she had to try. Unfortunately Harrington was quicker, catching her arm and pulling her around, backhanding her across the jaw and making her head spin again.

"Stop that, or I'll hurt you." He spoke quietly, with little emphasis, but she was certain he meant what he said.

Something hummed, a low vibration that set her teeth on edge, and lightning flashed outside the small window.

* * *

"Damn." Hank's voice was quiet, only audible to himself and the dinosaurs still ranged on the consoles as the last of The Halo rocks danced in an unexpected direction and opened up the view in front of them. He flipped the switch for the internal com. "Mal, our luck's run out. We're in the open."

There was a moment, and he could visualise his captain down in his bunk, possibly swearing. Then his voice came back. _"Can we hide?"_

"I can try, but ..." Something chimed on the board. "Damn it! Mal, we've been scanned!"

Then there was no more time. Something ahead flashed, growing bigger on the sensors until it hit, and every single light around him died.


	23. Chapter 23

"Well?" Cho asked, wiping at his forehead with the back of his hand, but it wasn't due to any rise in temperature. In fact, it had dropped several degrees, but the cold sweat on the chief engineer's brow appeared again almost immediately.

Kaylee sat back on her haunches, the scanner still in her hand. "There's something inside the box, but I can't get to it. If I could get it loose, maybe I could ... perhaps there's a seam or something, but I'm scared of forcing it in case it blows, and without getting to the innards ..." She huffed out air in frustration.

"Is there something else I can get, to help? Maybe some other tools ..."

"I don't see what. Maybe if we had time we could cut out the entire section, put it into the airlock and flush the whole gorram thing into space, but that'd take a few hours, and I don't think we've got the that much." She indicated the display, a lot closer to zero than it had been.

"Yeah." Cho glanced over his shoulder. "So what ... we tell the Cap to evacuate where we can?"

Kaylee's lips tightened. "You think there's any point?"

He slumped back against the wall. "No. Not as I can figure. When that thing detonates the fuel lines will rupture, then there ain't nothing that can stop it blowing, and I ... maybe a few folk'll survive, if they're behind sealed bulkheads."

"With no air, no heat? And nobody coming to the rescue?"

"Then what do we do?"

Kaylee looked up into his face, this man who reminded her so much of her father. Not that her dad would ever give up. She felt her backbone stiffen, and she straightened. "Our best." She climbed back into the small space, her eyes drawn against her will to the timer still counting silently down, seeming to be chopping her future into bite-sized portions. Okay. Right. An hour until … boom. "Come on, Winnie," she whispered to herself, using her father's old nickname for her to try and bring him closer. "We've got work to do."

* * *

0:59:10

"_Got 'em, boss."_

Chester smiled coldly at Freya as the voice of his gunner came back over the com, and he released the talk button.

"What the hell have you done?" Freya asked, her throat tight, her voice hoarse.

"Let's just say you won't have worry about buying an anniversary gift this year."

"You bastard." Freya struggled to get at him, but the General's grip was too secure, and she felt like she only had the strength of a kitten.

"Who was that?" Harrington asked, curious.

"No-one of any account." Chester dismissed the other vessel with a wave of his hand.

"Hmmn." Harrington glared at him for a moment, then shrugged. "Fine." His gaze travelled to Barkin. "Get my property on board."

"Your …" Barkin seemed confused.

"My daughter, if you prefer."

Barkin glanced at Saffron, then at Freya, but was obviously too scared to do anything. "Come on," he said, urging the redhead forward.

Saffron tried to hang back, but the start of another contraction had her leaning into a moan, and he took advantage of it to hurry her through the airlock.

"Our business is concluded," Harrington announced, turning away himself, Freya still in his grip.

Flynn took half a step forward, but hesitated. Chester shot him a look that promised dire – and possibly permanent – consequences if he moved again, then said, "General."

"Yes."

"If we can do anything else for you, just wave."

Harrington merely nodded, pushing Freya ahead of him through the airlock. It hissed closed behind him.

Chester whirled on Flynn. "You're lucky I don't leave you behind to blow with the rest."

"She was my friend."

"_Was._ I doubt she's feeling very friendly right now. Although once Harrington's finished with her, I expect you could always go and pick up the pieces."

"What about Serenity?"

Suddenly Chester was in his face. "You stick to your business, and keep your nose out of mine. _Dong mah_?" He stalked out, not waiting for a reply.

Alone in the bay, Flynn walked cautiously to the thick window, feeling the Interceptor disengage, but his gaze was only on the tiny Firefly spinning slowly on its axis …

* * *

0:57:03

"Hank!" Mal stumbled up the stairs from the pitch blackness of the corridor onto the bridge, the change of clothing still hanging open at his chest. "What the hell happened?"

"EMP." The pilot was on his back under the control console, colours playing across him from the light show of The Halo as Serenity slowly twisted on her axis.

Mal felt his heart dip. Not their first encounter with an EMP, but each time it had left them fried. "Golden Dragon?"

"I told you they know we're here."

"Are we dead?"

"Not sure." Something clicked and Hank scurried out. Quickly flipping back into his seat, he ran a sequence through the switches, just as Jayne, River and Simon appeared in the doorway behind them, the young doctor swearing under his breath from catching his bad leg on the railing.

"Are the kids okay?" Mal asked, his concern for his family overriding everything else for just a moment.

Simon nodded. "Bethie's looking after them." He almost smiled – the sight of his eldest daughter carrying David Gabriel fast asleep in the sling around her shoulders was going to warm him for years to come. "She's in her element."

"I see her vying for my job one day," Mal said, then his eyes widened as the board suddenly flickered to life. He glared at Hank. "I thought you said it was an EMP."

"It was. But Kaylee and I've been working on something." Hank was still fiddling. "Redundancies."

"What?" Then a conversation he'd had with the young mechanic came back to him.

"_If I can make the essential engine parts scram as soon as they detect anything like a pulse, I can build enough redundancies to overcome anything might be affected elsewhere."_ Kaylee had looked at him oddly, as if what she wanted to say would have gone so far over his head that he wouldn't have been able to see it with a telescope, so had kept it to captain dummy-talk. _"You know. With the bits I got off Leo on Jericho."_

He'd nodded, just asking her to keep any other expenditure as low as possible, preferably in the realms of absolutely nothing, and to ask him first if she wanted to do anything drastic like cutting a hole in the side of the ship.

Hank's next words confirmed his memory. "We might need to do some repairs before we get up to anything like full burn, but we've got power." He grinned grimly.

"Then how come we're still spinning?"

"You want us to look like we're dead, don't you?"

"Remind me to give Kaylee a pay rise, okay?"

"Hey, I helped!"

"Why didn't they just shoot us out of the sky?" Jayne wanted to know, ever the public relations expert.

"Too far for accuracy," Hank supplied. "An EMP is more efficient at this kinda range."

"Besides, I don't doubt Chester Lau has something much more up close and personal planned for us," Mal added.

"Chester Lau?" Jayne glanced at River, who nodded slowly.

Mal ignored the interjection, instead asking his pilot, "How about the shuttles – are they okay?"

"They're good to go," Hank confirmed. "They were powered down anyway, so they just need warming over."

"Can you plot a course to keep Serenity between the shuttle and that gorram ship?"

"Well, I –"

"I can do it."

Mal looked around to River who had pushed past her husband and now stood on the bridge. "Albatross?"

"I know the way."

It didn't occur to him to say she was staying behind – it hadn't for a very long time. All he asked was, "You sure?"

"I can see it." She tapped her temple.

"Shiny." Mal smiled grimly and finished zipping up his dark blue uniform. "Then I think maybe we'd better make our move now, don't you?"

* * *

0:50:30

Zoe knew they were coming. She could feel it, even if she wasn't psychic like River or Freya. But she knew Mal, better maybe than almost anyone, and she was absolutely certain he was on his way.

She'd taken Inara back to their suite, waited until she heard the lock engage then started back towards the main levels, checking every corner before moving smoothly along the wall. Inara had tried to make her stay, but she knew that wasn't possible. She had to be up and doing, helping Mal if it all possible, despite her shoulder. And the truth was, if it _was_ the Golden Dragon who'd locked on, she was under no illusions – he needed all the help he could get.

She shivered. The temperature was continuing to fall, the expanse of the Empress's hull giving off heat all too easily, leaching away until there would come a point where nobody could survive, and when the Alliance came along looking for them, all they'd find would be a tomb full of ghosts.

She reached the stairs, heading either down towards the engine room or up to the reception areas, and for a moment wondered if maybe she should go and look after Kaylee. No. She shook her head fractionally. From what the young woman had said about the engineers, they weren't about to let anything happen to her. Probably the best and safest place for their mechanic right now.

Turning to head up, Zoe came face to face with a huge glass window, running at least the height of five levels and as wide as the staircase. She'd been borne in space, but even she felt a slight nagging sensation of vertigo looking out at the stars, noting the irregular fragments making up this section of The Halo moving slowly in the pull of their individual pieces. No wonder hardly anybody ever used the stairs, preferring to take the easy option with the express elevators.

Then something caught her eye. A smoothness that shouldn't really be there amongst the rough and tumble of rocks. Something moving, rotating. And not just that, but a little something else moving away from the larger something.

She smiled and changed direction, heading down towards the emergency airlocks.

* * *

0:50:23

Jayne peered through the small bridge window of shuttle one as they detached from Serenity, catching sight of the Empress on every pass. "Still say it looks like a whorehouse I went to on Chandrey. 'Cept I think the whorehouse was prettier."

"I don't care. Put the uniform on."

"Aw, Mal …" Jayne's heart wasn't really into complaining, but he did it for form's sake. "You know how I hate dressing up in these gorram things." He pulled the neck of his medical technician's outfit into place. "Why are we wearing this _gos se _again?"

"Because if any of the crew see you like you usually are, they're gonna shoot first and dump your body without bothering to ask questions." Mal touched the metal of his gun strapped to his leg inside the dark blue pants.

"We're trying to help 'em!"

"They don't know that. All they know is they're stranded and there's someone on board already who shouldn't be. This way at least we'll have a chance of finding the girls."

"And if that bit of crap sees us?" Jayne nodded towards the Golden Dragon.

"Hank's putting out as much interference as he can, and The Halo's helping," River said, gently moving the shuttle away from the larger ship, using the impetus to push them clear. "Just pray they don't look out of a window."

_Oh, no worries on that front_, Mal thought to himself. He touched the gold cross hanging on its chain around his neck, his thoughts on the day Freya put it there._ No worries at all._

* * *

0:46:39

Chester Lau stood in the doorway to the Purser's Office, watching one of his men lace the front of the safe with tiny threads of explosive. He could have stayed back on the Golden Dragon, but experience had proved that he wasn't a stupid man, and only stupid men would trust anyone, least of all a crew of murdering bastards. He half-smiled. Just the reason he'd hired them. And experience had also shown that he should trust his brothers about as much.

Oh, it wasn't Jarrett who was the problem, although he was all too often led into bad ways. No, it was Aiden. Something would probably have to be done about him before long. Something permanent. And painful.

He glanced at his watch. "Wilson, if you don't hurry …"

"All done, boss," the man at the safe said, getting off his knees.

"We wouldn't have to blow it at all if Neimeyer hadn't shot the Purser." Just because the man had spoken up in complaint, and now they didn't have the combination or the right eye retinal scan, considering where he had been shot.

Wilson, who had never much liked the unfortunate Neimeyer, had to swallow the grin at just what was going to happen to him when Chester got around to it. "Well, we're ready now."

Chester stepped back into the corridor, leaning against the wall out of the way of any concussion as Wilson went the other side. "Do it."

Wilson took a breath, closed his eyes, and touched the switch. The explosion almost knocked them off their feet, even protected as they were, and the sound deafened them temporarily.

Chester glared at the other man, who had the nerve to shrug.

"Sorry, boss," Wilson said. "But it's a Bloch and Pelham. Nothing smaller would've done."

"If you've blown what was inside into pieces …"

Wilson dodged into the office, waving the smoke away from his face. "I know my job, boss."

Indeed he seemed to. As Chester stepped warily inside, he could see the door to the safe standing proud, the precise laying of the explosives having popped it free. Wilson leaned down and heaved it away, grunting with the effort.

Chester bent forward a little, finally satisfied when his gaze fell on the large number of jewellery cases inside. "Pack them up and take them back to the Dragon."

"Sure, boss."

* * *

0:40:12

Mal didn't even blink as River manoeuvred the small ship snugly around a fragment of Halo, almost taking the paint off the hull.

Simon, on the other hand, closed his eyes tight. He knew his sister was talented, and would trust her with his life – at least on a good day – but this was asking too much. He might not hate space like he used to, but the way the view outside the small bridge window was shifting and changing just made his stomach roll.

Jayne, sitting opposite and cradling Vera, chuckled. "You gonna throw, doc?" he asked. "Only if you are, let me know. I'll get outta the way."

The young man opened his eyes and glared. "And there I was thinking I could make life uncomfortable for you too."

"Hell, you do that enough."

Simon knew when he was being teased. Their relationship might never be brotherly, but they'd come to an understanding a long time ago, even liking each other – although they'd both have to be tortured to within an inch of their lives to admit it. "I do try." He eased his leg.

"Is it hurting?"

"Aching." Simon smiled slightly. "And I'll have to make a note in my diary – you're actually being solicitous."

"If you're waiting for me to ask what you mean, you'll be old and grey 'fore that happens."

"Heaven forfend."

Jayne grinned. "Maybe you shoulda brought one of those sticks with you."

"I'll be fine."

"Only I ain't gonna carry you if you fall behind."

"I'll keep up."

"You think we might need your services?" Jayne nodded down to the medical supplies in the small backpack at Simon's side.

"I hope not. But on previous experience …" He didn't need to finish the sentence.

"Nope. Guess I know what you mean." The big man glanced significantly towards where Mal stood behind River.

Simon followed his gaze, inadvertently catching sight of a huge lump of rock apparently about to collide with the small shuttle. His eyes slammed shut again, but he still heard Jayne laugh quietly.

Up on the tiny bridge Mal vaguely listened to the conversation going on behind him, understanding the need for men about to go into battle to ease the tension with humour. Because that's what they were going to do, there was no doubt. If any of them came away from this without blood on their hands, he'd be surprised. Just as long as it was the right blood he wasn't going to worry.

"It will be," River said quietly.

"You listenin?"

"Peeking," River admitted, her eyes on the view outside, her hands sure on the yoke. "To keep us safe."

He laid his fingers on her shoulder, squeezing just once. "Thanks, _xiao nu._" He couldn't see, not with her concentration so intently focused beyond the shuttle, but he knew she was smiling.

"_Jia yan_." She adjusted their vector slightly, and the Empress came rushing towards them.

This time even Mal, space-hardened as he was, felt his hand constrict, turning a phantom yoke away from certain destruction.

"Ouch," she murmured.

"Sorry, albatross."

"And I won't crash us." Indeed, she was already lining up the shuttle with a dimple on the side of the larger liner.

"I got your word on that, do I?"

"And if I do, you won't be able to tell me off."

"I'll haunt you."

"Promise?" There was a slight grating of metal as they docked with an emergency airlock.

"We're gonna be a long way from where we need to go," Mal commented.

"Only way the Dragon isn't going to know we're here."

"I know. Just saying." He adjusted the uniform around his neck. "We got a seal?"

"Yes."

"Then it's time."


	24. Chapter 24

00:36:02

The shuttle had docked at Sub-Level 3, Section 17a, Emergency Airlock 13, at least according to the sign on the wall.

"Thirteen?" Jayne shook his head. "Unlucky."

"Well, not for us." Mal headed for the door, quickly looking out and glancing in both directions. The corridor was empty. He looked back at River. "Hope you know where you're going, albatross."

She didn't respond, just raised an eyebrow at him and she moved smoothly past, stepping delicately over the sill.

Mal couldn't quite suppress the smile as he followed her, Jayne and Simon at his heels.

"Shit, but it's cold in here," Jayne complained.

"It will get colder," River said, waiting at the stairs.

"Great." He didn't like the cold. Or getting wet. Or being too hot, for that matter. Oh, he could deal with it, ignoring it for the most part, but that didn't mean he liked it.

Simon, in the meantime, was staring upwards. "Um, how many flights, River?"

"Ten. But after that it's mostly all on one level."

"Ten?" He glanced down at his leg. "I don't know if I can –"

"Aw, hell." Jayne sighed mightily. "Here. Hold Vera." He handed his Callaghan to Mal, and in the same movement grabbed Simon by the waist and lifted.

"What the …" Suddenly the young doctor's view was restricted to a close-up of Jayne's back as he was slung over the big man's shoulder.

"Don't worry," the ex-merc said. "If anyone sees us they'll just think I'm rescuing you."

Simon began to struggle. "Put me down."

"Nope."

"Jayne, so help me, if you don't put me down right now I –"

River ducked low enough to gaze into her brother's eyes. "No. You won't make it. And you have to."

"Riv?" Jayne turned. "You seeing something?"

"Not sure." She seemed distracted, but they knew better than to discount her warnings.

Mal, cradling Vera to his chest, attempted to take back charge. "Then we'll be careful. Okay, I conjure we can save the niceties until later, but 'til then, Simon – stop struggling. Jayne, you gonna be okay?"

"Shiny, Mal. 'Cept he's heavier than he looks."

"This is undignified," Simon complained. He felt a rumble through his body, and realised Jayne was chuckling.

"Looks like I do get to carry you after all," he joked, referring to their conversation in the shuttle.

"Oh, _diyu_." Simon let himself go limp.

Mal looked at River. "Ten flights?"

She nodded. "Yes, captain."

"Come on then." He led the way.

By the fifth floor even Mal was beginning to think maybe he wasn't as fit as he used to be – all that easy living eating occasionally and laying with loose women must've sapped his strength – or maybe they just made stairs steeper than they used to. Whatever it was, by the time they got to the level they wanted, his heart was pounding in his chest and he was wishing he was the one being carried. Even Jayne looked pleased to have arrived, dropping Simon gently back onto his feet.

"Thank you," the young man muttered, well aware he'd never have been able to get as far as the second, let alone the tenth level.

Jayne nodded and took Vera back off Mal, feeling the comfort of his favourite gun in his hands.

Mal stepped around the corner and felt his heart rate spike yet again.

"Sir."

Mal stared at his first mate, waiting nonchalantly for him. "Gorramit, Zoe, do you want to get yourself killed?"

She merely raised one eyebrow. "I believe I was the one with the gun on you."

"Can I remind you I'm captain?" It was automatic, this sort of banter. Ever since they'd first met during the war. Oddly enough, she'd been holding a gun on him then, too.

"Noted, sir."

"What're you doing here?" he demanded.

"Waiting for you."

"Apart from that."

"We've been boarded."

"Saw that. The Golden Dragon, hanging on like a tick on a cow in a field of hay."

"Yes, sir."

"And Frey?"

"The Laus have her."

"Alive?" He remembered their encounter with this man and his brothers on Ezra, quite apart from the reputation that hung about their names like the smell of putrefaction. "Is she alive?" He hadn't felt her in his mind for too long. She didn't answer, and his face tightened as he pushed the intense worry for his wife back down into the pit of his stomach where it could seethe. "Seems like Chester's back to his old tricks. But what does he want with Frey?"

"It's not her. It's Saffron."

Mal stared. "What?"

"Who," River corrected quietly, but they both ignored her.

"Zoe, what are you on?"

"Saffron. She's on board. Inara's been … talking to her."

"Talking? To that harpy?" For a split Mal had a mental image of Inara doing something else entirely, as if 'talking' was a euphemism for …

River's nose wrinkled in disgust. "Just talking," she said firmly.

"Apparently she's pregnant, sir," Zoe went on. "Going home to Bellerophon. But somebody kidnapped her."

"And Frey?"

"She got in the way."

He could feel the anger burning its way through him, meeting the absolute ice cold certainty that he would make someone pay, and bringing him to the boil. He pulled the comlink from his pocket, boosted by an ungainly additional powerpack. "Hank, are you still playing dead?"

"_Deader than roadkill." _

"Is the engine online?"

"_Just needs the flick of a switch."_

"Keep an eye on the Dragon. If they even look like they realise you're still running, you hightail it back into The Halo and hide."

"_Mal –"_

"This ain't no discussion, Hank."

"_But Zoe –"_

"I'm fine, Hank," Zoe said, leaning forwards slightly.

There was a pause, and everyone listening could imagine him offering up a silent prayer. They all heard him take a breath. _"Okay. But I ain't going far."_

"Far enough, Hank."

"_What about Kaylee and the others?"_ Hank wanted to know. _"Are they okay?"_

Mal glanced at Zoe, wondering why he hadn't asked himself.

"Kaylee's trying to get the Empress's engine back up and running, Inara's looking after the girls in our suite," his first mate supplied.

"_That's our Kaylee. And before you ask, the Dragon's locked on at the fifth level, looks like the one they use to load luggage and the like."_

"I thought you said it was all on the same level?" Mal asked, looking at River.

The young psychic shrugged. "I said mostly. And Zoe had to join us."

"Okay." He took a breath himself. "Okay. Hank, keep this line open, just in case we need a quick rescue."

"_You? Needing a rescue?"_

It was relief, Mal told himself. Just relief that his wife was, at least for the moment, unharmed. Otherwise his pilot was going to have to walk back to Persephone. "Just keep listening."

"_Dang rahn."_

Fifth. Two decks below. Mal turned to River. "Quickest route?"

"I can see," she said.

He nodded, then shifted his gaze to Zoe. "Get to Kaylee. I know she's probably gonna argue, but I –""

"There's more, sir," his first mate said, interrupting him.

"More? How the hell can there be more?"

Something like gunfire sounded a distance away in the liner, muffled by expensive carpets and carried to them by miles of corridors but for the moment he ignored it.

"Flynn's with them."

"What?"

"With the Laus. He's working for them."

He closed his eyes briefly, mentally damning everything and everyone within a thousand kilometre radius. "Right. Fine. Then I'll deal with that when I get to it. For now … Zoe, what I was gonna say before still goes. Get to Kaylee. I don't want her left alone, even if she's surrounded by a thousand mechanics. Try and make her hide in the shuttle, but one way or another, keep her safe."

"Yes, sir." She loped away.

Mal adjusted the gunbelt hidden around his hips, grateful for the comfort it gave. "Doc, you okay to move fast? 'Cause I'm thinking we ain't got time to dawdle."

"I'll keep up."

A single nod. "Shiny. Jayne –"

The ex-merc grinned. "You want me to carry him again?"

"No. I got another job for you to do."

"Mayhem?" the big man asked, his smile now bordering on the evil, somewhat incongruous in the medtech uniform although quite in keeping with the grenades strapped across his chest. He didn't believe in the word 'inconspicuous'.

"Keep 'em occupied, take 'em out, I don't much care."

"Sounds like fun." He hefted Vera in his hands. "Ain't had anything to shoot at in a while."

"Enjoy," River whispered, reaching up and ghosting her lips across his.

"You too, moonbrain." Jayne watched as his wife moved silently towards the bend in the corridor, Mal following with Simon hobbling along behind, then he ran towards the sound of gunfire.

* * *

0:30:01

_Mal. Mal_. Nothing. Try as she might Freya couldn't touch her husband's mind.

Harrington had pushed her down to the deck and threaded the chain of the handcuffs through a metal stanchion attached to the wall, probably wary of what she might do if left unchecked. He'd only taken as long as needed to set the autopilot before coming back to the small lounge.

"Well?" he asked, watching dispassionately as his daughter suffered through another huge contraction, only a slight flaring of his nostrils showing any emotion, and mostly that was disapproval.

Barkin wiped his forehead with the back of his arm. "Not yet."

"When?"

"It could be as much as ten hours."

"Ten hours?" Saffron screamed.

Barkin nodded. "You're not fully effaced. Until that happens, the baby's not coming."

"_Bun tyen-shung duh ee-dway-ro_," she ground out.

"You know, this isn't my fault," Barkin said miserably.

"I don't care." She grabbed his hand and squeezed hard.

Harrington shook his head. "I don't care how long it takes, or how much pain she's in. All I want is the child."

"No!" Saffron tried to sit up but the contraction was only just starting to recede.

"I don't think you have a say in the matter."

"Why don't you give her something? To make her more comfortable?" Freya asked, feeling Saffron's pain like a knife in her head.

"I don't have anything." Barkin shot a glare at her.

"There must be a medical kit on board."

Barkin turned on his heels to Harrington. "Well? Is there?"

For a moment it looked like the General might deny it, then he shrugged. "I suppose it's necessary. Anything to keep her from making that noise." He crossed to a recessed cupboard and opening it, pulling out a large box. "Here. If whatever you need isn't in there, you'll have to make do without."

Barkin took it hurriedly, putting it down on the floor and opening the lid. He couldn't help the sigh of relief at the contents.

Frey tried to get into a more comfortable position, the cuffs rattling. "You know, he won't stop."

"Who?" Harrington asked, barely glancing at her as Barkin prepared a hypo.

"My husband. He'll come for me."

The General's lips lifted slightly. "And you think I should be worried?"

"Yes."

He chuckled. "You have a great deal of faith in him."

Xavier Wing, Niska … Mal had ended them because of what they'd done, not only to her. She tried to hide the shudder the memories brought up. "He'll find you. Kill you if you hurt me."

"Really."

"No matter what you do, where you go. And Durren Haymer isn't going to let you get away with doing this to Saffron, either."

"Haymer?" Harrington scoffed. "That wimp?"

"People will know."

Harrington stared at her, contemplating. "You know, maybe you're right." He headed for the bridge.

* * *

0:21:56

Joy huddled close to her parents, eyes huge in the dim light that barely reached the walls of the main ballroom, as the pirates went around everyone collecting valuables. Two of the several dozen people congregated there were already on the floor, bleeding from gunshot wounds and moaning, and more bullets decorated the ceiling, just as an encouragement. It was working – the sacks the gunmen carried were already more than half full.

One of them stopped in front of Joy and her parents, holding out the bag. When her father was a little slow in pulling out his billfold, the thief stepped closer.

"You really wanna piss me off?" he asked, his voice low, threatening. Not that he needed it. Just the sight of him was enough to chill the blood. Dressed in a sleeveless, less than clean t-shirt, his skin was covered in tattoos, most of them either depicting images of violence or scenes lewd enough to make a working girl blush. His right arm, though, showed heavy scarring that obliterated the pictures, resembling nothing less than a cheese grater in texture. This continued up his shoulder and neck to his face, permanently caught in a scowl, even if that wasn't his usual expression. He leaned forward, showing that – despite surprisingly good teeth – he had breath to match his appearance. "'Cause you really don't wanna piss me off."

Joy felt anger surging through her, fighting the fear that had taken root to a standstill. She glared up at him, ignoring his halitosis. "What makes you think you can come here, taking stuff off of good people?"

He ran his eyes up and down her body. "Girlie, there ain't no good people I can see."

"I'm not your girlie."

"You could be." He smiled, so lasciviously Joy wanted to scrub her skin clean. "Wouldn't take but a few minutes to make you."

Oscar Danette pulled his daughter behind him. "Leave her alone."

"Yeah? You gonna make me?"

Danette was terrified, but nobody was going to touch his daughter. "Yes. You go anywhere near her, you'll have to get through me first."

"That can be arranged."

"Ward, leave her alone," one of the other men said, not from any sense of propriety, but merely because his colleague was wasting time.

"What if I don't want to?" Ward countered.

"We're here for the trinkets, nothin' else."

Ward laughed softly, coldly. "I figure she's a trinket worth taking."

Danette swallowed hard, but stood his ground. "You're not touching her." His voice caught.

"You wanna take a bet on that?" Ward took a single step back and dropped the bag, a single gold wedding band rolling out across the floor, ignored by everyone.

One of the other gunmen, the one who had remonstrated with Ward in the first place, pulled a comlink from his pocket, and was talking into it quietly, urgently.

"Daddy ..." Joy was crying, tears rolling down her cheeks, her mother doing the same, dragging on her husband's arm.

Ward lifted his gun, aiming carefully, although at that distance he wasn't going to miss. He took up the slack ...

His head exploded. There was no other way of describing it. One moment he was about to end Danette, the next blood, bone and grey matter was decorating the floor behind him. He fell backwards, almost in slow motion, the force of his impact on the expensive, rare wood parquet flooring throwing up splashes of bodily fluids.

Everyone stared in disbelief. Everyone, that is, except for the other gunmen who turned towards the newcomer, but too late. Always and forever too late. The gun spoke again, filling the ballroom with sound, and the pirates went down, holes the size of fists in their chests.

Jayne, big, broad and very imposing even in the medtech's uniform, stood in the doorway, Vera smoking in his hands. "Anyone else wanna try?" he demanded, his teeth showing in a feral grin.

* * *

0:21:41

Chester Lau smiled as he headed back towards the Empress's main ballroom. He'd deposited the jewellery from the Purser's office in his personal safe in his bunk on the Golden Dragon, along with the fee he'd obtained from the General for handing over Madam Reynolds, or Saffron, or whatever the hell she decided to call herself. The safe only he knew the combination to. It wasn't that he didn't trust his crew – he didn't trust anyone, least of all his brothers. As head of the family after his father died in a mysterious shuttle explosion (mysterious to everyone else, anyway) he had total control over the finances, and he intended to keep it that way.

He checked his watch. Less than half an hour until the bomb went off, and with any luck taking any evidence of his activities with it. Plenty of time, though, to collect the booty from the collection going on the ballroom. Chicken feed, of course, compared to the accounts he had squirreled away, but he had never been one to turn down free cash.

People were milling about the corridors, having got over the first flash of fear, and now wondering what was going on, and it was harder going to get along. He'd barely made it to the right level when the comlink in his pocket trilled. Several passengers stopped to stare at him, and he ducked into an open doorway before taking it out. "What?"

"_Chester, we've got a problem."_ It was Packham, one of those supposed to be gathering baubles.

"What?"

"_It's Ward. He's up to his old tricks."_

"And you expect me to do what?"

"_Stop him?"_

"He's got less than fifteen minutes before the Dragon leaves, with or without him," Chester said, his irritation clear.

"_I know that, but –"_ Boom. _"Shit."_ Boom. Then again. Boom. Followed by a clatter as the comlink fell to the floor.

"Packham? Packham?"

"_Anyone else wanna try?"_ Not Packham, and fainter, as if a distance from the hand link. A deep voice, coming from a big man.

The dots connected. Reynolds' mercenary. Which probably meant ... He hurried out into the corridor and almost ran back towards the Golden Dragon.

* * *

0:15:39

People were milling about, trying to find out what was going on, and the stewards were having little or no luck in getting them to go back to their rooms. River, by virtue of being female and young, was able to slip between them, but Mal wasn't so lucky.

"What's going on?" An elderly man with a head entirely devoid of hair stopped him by the simple expedient of hooking his arm with his stick. "Tell me, what's going on?"

It was the uniform. Mal knew that. That and his natural air of authority. So far he'd been accosted by half a dozen passengers, all asking the same question. He gave the same answer. "I'm trying to find out sir. As soon as I know, so will you."

The man sniffed at him, probably at his accent, but let him go.

Simon limped up behind. "How much farther?" he asked, panting slightly.

"You could have gone with Zoe," Mal pointed out, following River again.

"And missed all the fun of seeing you get shot again?"

Mal didn't take offence. He understood the young doctor was only being snarky because he knew his own wife was all right, albeit elbow deep in the guts of the liner. At least she was in her element.

_Down to the next level_, they both heard in their minds as River disappeared around a corner. _Then we're there._

Mal quickened his pace, shrugging off another questioner. "And you hang back when we do get on board," he warned over his shoulder. "Not sure I could explain another bullet hole in you to Kaylee."

He reached the stairs, taking them two at a time, knowing they were close, and just that knowing meaning he was catching up with River. At the next open doorway he ducked through, seeing the young psychic only a few paces in front. Then he almost ran into her as she stopped.

"Here," she whispered, ducking through a door. He followed, ending up in a small room, an open airlock in front of him. "Quickly," she added, slipping inside.


	25. Chapter 25

0:10:27

The Golden Dragon was a lot bigger than Serenity, and laid out totally differently. The main airlock was in a room of its own, metal cages bolted to the walls down two of the sides, nets holding various items down a third. It was also empty as Mal and River slipped inside.

"Albatross?"

"A moment, Captain." River had her head on one side as if she was listening to the ship talking to her, which it quite possibly was.

Not that Mal could wait. "Can you feel ... them?" _Freya, can you feel Freya_, was what he wanted to ask.

"I'm not ..." Her eyes widened. "No!" She span on her heel and ran back towards the inner controls, but it was too late. The airlock slid closed, the faint hiss of the seal hardening very loud. She played an arpeggio across the board, but to no avail. "I'm locked out!"

The comlink in Mal's pocket buzzed, Hank's voice coming immediately after.

"_He's trying to disengage!"_

As he pulled it loose privately Mal wondered if the pilot's blood pressure was likely to cause him to blow a gasket, or at least have a stroke. "Stop him."

"_How?"_

"I don't care! Block him in or something."

"_The Dragon's got weapons …"_

Not for the first time Mal wanted to swear, volubly and at length, over the fact that his Firefly wasn't armed, even if sometimes he felt they'd attract more trouble than they were worth. Then it was too late – he felt the Golden Dragon tremble beneath him.

"Hank." It was River, up so close behind him he could feel the heat of her body on his back. "Do it."

"_I don't know …"_

"I do. Trust me."

"Trust what?" Mal turned enough so that he could see her face, her eyes huge in the overhead light.

She gazed at him. "Hank. Do it."

"_But you're on board. What if I get this wrong?"_

"You won't."

"_Honey, you've got a hell of a lot of faith in me."_

"Yes. Do it."

_Tell him_. The words coalesced in Mal's brain with an incredible feeling of certainty. He felt his mouth open before he consciously decided. "Hank. Do it. Whatever it is."

* * *

0:08:02

If Hank had been standing behind himself, watching, he'd probably have admired the way his alter ego had managed to get Serenity up to respectable speed from a basic standing start, surprising anyone on board Golden Dragon, who would have thought them dead in the water.

In fact, sometimes Hank actually wished he could be two people. The one who watched while the other did. The one who could while the other couldn't. The one who was a hero, and the one who … Except there was little heroism in him, so there was no point in wishing.

Times like this, he considered, he was jealous of Wash. He'd never met the man, but he'd been told enough tales of him. Wash had flown through Reavers, Alliance, brought his family safe to land. Admittedly he'd given his life, but all in all Hank considered that a fair exchange. He'd do it for Zoe. _Just not today_, he added in silent prayer.

Keeping his right thumb on the switch River had rigged, he swung the yoke hard right then tightly up, and Serenity squealed in protest. Something clanged loudly, and he winced, imagining what Kaylee was going to say when she found out whatever it was that had broken, but held the Firefly to her course. Instruments were useless, so he relied on instincts, waiting until the last possible moment before … he pressed down.

The bomb bay doors swung open, and through sheer impetus – and Hank's great skill – the contents shot free, almost as if under its own propulsion.

The ore, containing unrefined Herschelium, flew straight and true, and struck Golden Dragon's engine housing. Those that would have gone past to strike the Empress seemed to curve in their trajectory and some fragments slipped between plates, while others seemed attracted by the power starting to flood the nacelle. However it landed, or where, suddenly there was enough, reaching a critical point at the atomic level, and a silent, violet flare lit the Black for a second, sucked back into the ship immediately as if it had never been. Except the Dragon's engine was now dark, useless, and the visible lights were flickering.

"Good gorram," Hank muttered, unable to formulate a better curse. "She was right."

* * *

0:05:58

"Shit."

"Language." River shook her head at him.

Mal tugged his gun from inside his uniform as he watched the lights dim, brighten, then fade until there was little more than a cold glow. "_Xiao nu_, there ain't the words available. What did he do?"

"Stopped them leaving." She tried the control again, and this time the airlock opened, revealing Simon leaning on the wall.

"I thought you might have decided to go without me," the young doctor said.

"Need you," River said, heading to the second door.

This time, though, Mal was quicker, putting his arm out to stop her. "Nope, River. You let me go first." He didn't wait to hear her response, just opened the inner door to the main cargo bay. And ducked as a bullet whined through barely an inch from his head. "Gorramit, where's Jayne's grenades when I need 'em?"

"Let me," River murmured, whispering past him crouched low.

"Shit."

* * *

0:05:12

Chester could hear gunfire, but this time not through the com but on his ship. On board his own gorram ship! Carrying the leather satchel he'd stuffed as much of the contents of his safe into as possible, he ran down the metal staircase towards the lower shuttle.

"Boss! Boss!" One of his crew accosted him, grabbing him by the arm. "What the _guay_ is going on?"

"Get to the bay,"

"But there's –"

Chester shoved him so hard the man staggered back, falling to the deck. "You do what I tell you! And find out what's wrong with the engines."

"Which?"

"What?"

"Bay or engine?"

Chester glared at him. "Do I look like I care?" He strode away, ducking through a doorway into the shuttle bay.

Self preservation. That, and the accumulation of money, was right at the top of his list of priorities.  
And if his brothers weren't with him, well ... with enough cash he could always buy some more.

He glanced at his timepiece again. Enough time, just. Enough time to get away before the bomb went off. Weaving between the crates containing booty from his last handful of jobs, he punched the code to open up the shuttle door, and was about to enter when he heard a voice behind him.

"Going somewhere, Chester?"

* * *

0:04:12

Mal fired over a crate and heard a scream as his bullet found its target. Next to him Simon was doing the same, adding to the cacophony as the smell of cordite filled the air. Then, suddenly, nobody was shooting at them anymore.

_Jia yan_. River's voice in his mind.

_Yeah?_

_Hurry._

He stood up, waited a moment to see if he fulfilled his crew's predictions and got himself shot, then when he didn't feel the sudden pain or see the blood he hurried forwards. "Albatross?"

River stood in the middle of the bay, head high, her guns in her hands. At her feet were two men, one holding the other in his arms. "They wish to surrender."

"_Puo foo_." Aiden Lau, cradling his shoulder with one hand, blood seeping between his fingers, lay on his brother's thighs, pain and anger warring for dominance on his face.

"You talk like that and I'm liable to forget you're wounded," Mal pointed out.

Aiden just glared at him.

Jarrett, on the other hand, was more talkative. "We have to leave."

"Why?" Mal demanded.

"Because we're gonna get blown up otherwise!"

"What?"

"There's a bomb on the liner. We've barely got enough time to get far enough way as it is!"

Mal glanced at River, feeling something crawl up his spine. "They telling the truth?"

She nodded slowly. "But Kaylee's dealing with it."

"You sure?"

She didn't answer.

Mal went down onto his heels. "How long?" he asked, grabbing Jarrett's shirt and pulling him close.

"Minutes."

_No time_, River dropped into his mind. _Trust her_. Aloud she said, "Chester Lau is trying to leave."

Aiden struggled to sit up, a groan forcing between his tight lips. "He's what?"

"He's taking a shuttle. Stop him," River said to Mal, ignoring the man on the floor.

"You okay to keep an eye on this pair?" He glanced around the bay, seeing a pair of booted feet sticking out behind some metal boxes. "Are you likely to get ambushed?"

"No more enemies alive on board, apart from Chester." The odd emphasis she put on the word 'enemies' was barely discernible.

Mal nodded, then shot Simon a look. "Stay here. Patch this _hwoon dahn_ up if you feel the need."

"What about Kaylee?" The young doctor was intensely worried. "If they're right –"

"Simon, if they're right, it's too late to get to her anyway. And Zoe was heading her way."

"Mal –"

"Doc. Do your job."

River cocked her guns, the sound loud. "I will protect you." She gazed at Mal. "Go. Now. He may need your help."

"Who, albatross?"

"Go."

* * *

0:03:01

Flynn looked almost relaxed as he faced Chester Lau, one hand hanging loosely by his gunbelt, the other hidden behind his back. "Surprised to see me?"

"What the hell are you doing here?" Chester's face suffused with anger as without thought he took two steps forward, attempting to intimidate.

"Oh, just waiting for you. I thought it was time you and I had a talk."

Chester glanced down at his watch again. "Okay. But let's do it in the shuttle instead of out here."

"Why?" Flynn raised his eyebrows. "I'm quite comfortable."

"Because otherwise we're likely to get blown to kingdom come!"

Flynn snapped his fingers. "Of course. I'd forgotten." He smiled coldly.

"We need to leave immediately." Chester turned back to the shuttle entrance, but suddenly Flynn was in front of him

"Oh, I don't think so."

"Don't be an idiot!"

"But what about your men? Your brothers?" For all his youth, there was an age of understanding in his eyes. "Leaving them to die?"

"If you don't let me go we all die." Chester tried to push past the much younger man, expecting with his size and weight to do it easily, and not at all ready for the right hook that landed him on his backside on the deck.

Flynn stood over him, his gun drawn. "I turned on my friends because of you." His finger was very close to the trigger.

"You took a job."

"I'm resigning."

"You can't. You took the thirty pieces of silver. We have a contract." Chester swallowed, finally feeling the first twinges of real fear amidst the anger. "Now let me get us out of here, and we can discuss a raise. I think you've earned it. But we have to leave now before the bomb detonates." His fingertips started to inch across his waistcoat towards the small but powerful gun secreted in his jacket pocket.

"No. I don't think so." Flynn brought his hand out from behind his back, holding something up.

Chester managed to scrabble to his feet. "_Tzao gao_."

* * *

0:01:17

"Ms Kaylee." Cho leaned down and reached under the console, touching her on the leg. "Come on out from there."

"No. Just another few minutes. If I can get this last bolt free maybe I can –"

"Kaylee."

She stopped, her hands stilling in their frantic haste. Her head dropped, fat tears sliding down her cheeks and dropping from her chin onto her chest. Closing her eyes, she shimmied out, letting him help her to her feet.

"I'm sorry," she muttered.

He pulled her against him, holding her tight. "Hey, don't you worry so," the Chief Engineer said, rubbing her back. "You did all you could." His eyes, though, were fixed on the timer.

"Kaylee?"

"Zoe?" The young mechanic twisted towards the doorway, staring at her friend as if she was an apparition. "Oh, Zoe ..."

The first mate took in an open console, the tall, older man holding Kaylee close to him, the red-hued numbers counting down, and her heart seemed to stop. "_Ai ya_ ..."

0:00:05

Kaylee turned back to Cho, her face buried against him, the images in her mind of her children, her daughters and her son, the rest of her family, but most of all ... "Simon," she murmured.

0:00:03

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0:00:01

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	26. Chapter 26

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0:00:00

"Kaylee?" Zoe took a hesitant step forwards, her eyes fixed on the timer flashing zero.

Kaylee looked up from Cho's embrace into his face, realising she hadn't just been rendered into her constituent particles. "I don't …"

He shook his head. "Me neither, Ms Kaylee."

"We should be dead."

"Kinda glad I'm not."

"Kaylee, what the hell's going on?" Zoe wanted to know, her heart rate still too high for her liking.

"Not sure." Wriggling from Cho's arms, she dropped back onto her knees, scuttling under the console. This time, with a recklessness born of the fact that she had so far not been blown up, she used all her strength to lever the tube from the wall. The stanchions gave with a squeal and she backed out, the bomb in her hand. "Help me," she said, laying it on the work bench.

Between them it was only the work of a moment to get the end off. She peered inside. "_Run tse duh fuotzoo._"

"What is it?" Zoe demanded.

"The detonator's gone."

"What?"

Kaylee held up the tube, showing a distinct lack of something. "The detonator. Someone's already removed it. That's why it didn't blow."

"Who? Who'd do that?"

For a moment Kaylee didn't answer, then she lifted her head, her eyes shining. "Only one person I can think of ..."

* * *

Chester blanched, as much as his skin tone allowed. "Is that ..."

Flynn looked at the apparatus in his hand as if he didn't quite recognise it, turning it first one way then the other. "The detonator. You won't be blowing up the Empress. You, on the other hand ..."

Now Chester felt true fear uncurling in his belly. "You're insane. You won't get away with it."

"I know. But neither will you. I'm not going to let you do this. Not kill all those innocent people."

"A mercenary with morals?"

"Gunhand. And I guess there must be more of my mother in me than I thought." Flynn flicked a switch with his thumb, and the detonator began to hum. "Better say a prayer."

"You'll die too." Chester swallowed hard.

"To take you out of the 'verse?" Flynn grinned. "I'd say it was a good trade." He laughed lightly. "See you in hell." He threw the detonator, hard.

Chester tried to step back but found himself against the wall. Without thinking his hands came up to catch the device before it smacked him in the chest. He started to turn it, scrabbling to find the off button before it blew, sweat pouring down his face.

Flynn dropped behind a crate, but as he did so he saw movement at the open door, gun in hand. "Mal!" he yelled. "Duck!" He launched himself forward in an attempt to push the older man to the ground, or at least be some kind of buffer, but the explosion behind him lifted him off his feet, tossing him about like a rag doll before depositing him on the bay floor.

Mal was thrust back, protected from most of the blast by the wall, but something hit him in the chest, bouncing off and away before he could tell what it was. For a long moment the world went dark, and he wondered if he was breathing his last, but then he realised those breaths tasted acrid, and he coughed violently. He forced his eyes open onto a grey world that swirled in front of him.

The smoke was clearing, luckily sucked out of the atmosphere by the air scrubbers rather than a hull breach, and Mal blinked hard, feeling tears cleaning his vision and running down his cheeks.

The first thing he saw was a leg in a boot not a metre from him, but not attached to anything, just ending in ragged bone and blackened flesh. His stomach churned a little, knowing it was that which had just hit him.

"Mal?" A voice, barely audible above the ringing in his ears.

Stepping over the limb he walked forward carefully if unsteadily into the shuttle bay, coming across other, less recognisable body parts. Then, behind a crate ...

"Flynn." He went down onto his knees, examining the young man, noting the blood covering his chest, and more pooling beneath his leg. Carefully, wary of hurting him but knowing he had to deal with it quickly, Mal pulled the tear in his pants wider, inwardly wincing at the gash down Flynn's thigh, pumping blood. "Gorram it," he murmured, leaning forward and undoing Flynn's belt buckle, tugging it from around his waist.

"I'm sorry, Mal." Flynn coughed. "I didn't ... can't give you excuses ... just ..." Again a cough. "My fault."

Mal lifted Flynn's thigh just enough to get the belt around it, above the wound, ignoring the glisten of white bone amongst the red. He slid the tongue back through the buckle and pulled it tight. "Yeah. You took on a job you shouldn't, and it blew up on you. Literally." He glanced around. "Is that..."

Flynn nodded. "Chester Lau. What's left of him."

"Not a lot, from what I can see."

"Couldn't let him ... you know."

Mal tied the tourniquet tighter, hearing the young man groan. "I think you've got more of your Ma in you than you like to think."

"That's what I ... what I said." He tried to breathe through the pain. "Can you tell her ... tell her I'm sorry?"

Mal couldn't help it. He chuckled. "You thinking of dying on me?"

Flynn looked down at the blood soaking his shirt, the mangled state of his leg. "Pretty much."

"Then I'm sorry to disappoint. Most of that ain't yours."

"It's not?" Flynn seemed surprised.

"Nope." Mal lifted his head, hearing somewhat hobbling footsteps outside in the corridor. "Doc!" he yelled. "That you?"

Simon limped into view. "You shouted?"

"Got a patient for you."

The doctor stepped gingerly into the engine room, eyeing a torso. "I hope it isn't him. Miracles I might be able to pull off, but waking the dead ..."

"Nope. Flynn here. And how did you know we needed you?"

"River, of course." Simon hurried over, going down onto his knees with difficulty next to the young man. "Is it just your leg?"

"I ... I think so. Not sure." Flynn tried to scuttle back away from the pain as Simon began to deftly examine the wound, but he could barely do more than tremble.

"Lie still."

"Better do as he says," Mal put in. "You really don't wanna make him angry. It's a sight, I'll tell you."

Simon didn't respond, just sighed. After a moment, though, he said, "I need to get you back to Serenity, as soon as possible." He glanced at Mal. "I take it we're not about to blow up?"

"Not us, Simon." Mal nodded towards the last mortal remains of Chester Lau. "Not us."

Flynn gasped, then looked up. "Mal, I –"

Whatever he was about to say was drowned out by Hank's voice over the comlink lying on the floor where it had been dropped.

"_Mal, we got company!"_ The pilot's voice was strained.

Mal scooped up the link. "Who?"

"_Looks like the Interceptor decided to come back. And she's powering up weapons!"_

"Can you run?"

"_Where to?"_

"Just go! Get my ship out of here!"

"_I don't think he's coming for us…"_

Mal ran towards the window, trying to clear the thick plexiglass with his sleeve, smearing dirt and blood out of the way until he could see enough. "_Chur ni duh_," he murmured, wishing he wasn't looking at a small spark of light coming right at him.

"_I think he wants to take both of you out_."

"Hank, move!"

"_There's no more ore ready, otherwise –"_

"Hank, do what I tell you!"

"_I can ram it,"_ Hank suggested, obviously not intending to leave_. "Serenity's belly is pretty thick."_

For a split second Mal considered it, then something stirred in his mind.

_Mal?_

_Frey?_

A sudden picture formed, and he shouted into the comlink. "Hank! Don't! Frey's on board that thing!"

"_What?"_

"Don't ram it! For God's sake, don't ram it!"

"_But he's got a lock on you!"_

"I know."

It was getting closer, well within firing range now of its missiles, and any second he knew he was going to see the flare as they were released, and then feel the vibration as they hit home, just before his brain exploded.

Suddenly, over the comlink, Mal could hear another voice, as if coming from a great distance.

"_Yee ha!"_

A Pelican-class ship powered into view, sweeping over the Empress and heading for the Interceptor, a ship he recognised all too well. But they didn't know, couldn't know who was on board.

"Frey!" Mal shouted, banging on the window as if he could make a difference to what was about to happen.

But if Hank was good, just for that moment Noah Thacker was even better. As Cherokee ate up the distance, he aimed the powerful rail guns mounted under her nose, and let fly. With unerring accuracy the large rounds ripped through the base of the Interceptor's engine housing, showering space with a myriad of sunbright sparks that died immediately. The crippled ship started to spin slowly under the onslaught, reminding Mal of his own Firefly.

"Hank, scan it!" he ordered.

There was a tense moment, then his pilot came back with, _"It's okay, Mal. Whatever Noah hit, it just disabled them. The main hull hasn't been breached."_

Mal let out a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding, feeling the pounding of his heart starting to slow.

"Frey?" Flynn asked from his position on the floor, struggling to rise.

"Lie still," Simon told him, pressing on his chest with one hand while using an emergency bandage pack on the tear to his thigh.

"Is she okay?" Flynn wanted to know, ignoring both the doctor and the pain radiating up his body.

_Frey?_

_Mal._

_Are you hurt?_

_Probably a little concussed. You seem very faint._

_Just a little way from you, xin gan. We're going to come and get you._

_Good._

Mal still stared at the damaged ship, but said, "She's fine."

"Thank Buddha." Flynn dropped back, his own predicament forgotten for just a moment.

"No, boy," Mal said. "Thank your mother."

* * *

On board Serenity, Hank was laughing, staring at the screen then up through the bridge windows. "The cavalry,"he managed to get out. "It's the gorram cavalry."

"Uncle Hank?"

He turned, seeing the children crowding the entry. "Hey, aren't you supposed to be hiding?"

Bethie, standing in front, twisted her foot on the floor, Fiddler held tightly in her arms. "Are they okay?"

Ethan, so close behind her there wasn't daylight between them, was chewing worriedly on his thumb, something he hadn't done in years. His blue eyes were huge, scared.

"They're fine, short stub," Hank assured her, then looked at the rest of the children. "They're all fine."

Bethie breathed a huge sigh of relief and turned, poking Ethan with the little dog, making Fiddler bark. "See? I told you."

Hank didn't bother hiding the grin, then turned back as the com chirped at him. The grin grew wider.

* * *

"Mal, I really do need to get Flynn back to my infirmary. He's not actually going to bleed to death right this minute, but there's a lot of damage, and if I don't get it dealt with ..." Simon stopped.

"I get you. And I wouldn't be surprised if Jayne doesn't appear in that doorway any second." Mal's lips twisted.

"River?"

"River. Your sis surely does like to make herself useful."

"Among other things." Simon packed his supplies back into the pack.

Mal cocked his head. "In fact, I think I hear footsteps right now." Still, just in case he kept his gun trained on the doorway.

"Riv said you needed help?" Jayne asked, appearing like a demon. "'Cept I'm gonna take umbrage if you shoot me."

Mal holstered his weapon, but it was Simon who spoke.

"Umbrage?" The young doctor stood up, using the crates for support. "Have you been reading the dictionary again?"

"Yep. Although there's a few letters me and moonbrain like to stick around on." Jayne managed to make the words lascivious.

"Oh, please," Simon muttered. "I need you to take Flynn back to the shuttle."

"It's a long way, doc. Wouldn't we be better just using the Dragon's shuttle? It'd be a hell of a lot quicker."

"Good idea," Mal said quickly, seeing Simon's jaw drop. "And as I don't think I can take many more surprises for today, you'd better get going."

"Aren't you coming with us?" Simon asked in almost as much surprise.

"I'm gonna go collect the others, get 'em all back to _our_ shuttle. I have a notion the cruise is over." The comlink in his hand buzzed again. It was Hank.

"_Mal, there's someone wants to talk to you …"_

"Who?"

This time it was a woman's voice. _"Mal, you still alive over there?"_

"Jez?"

"_One and the same." _Jez Thacker, nee Youngblood, sounded like she was grinning widely. _"I always did like to make a grand entrance."_

"You almost left it a bit too late this time," Mal pointed out.

"_Yeah, well, we stopped for tea and crumpets on the way."_

"Did you save me any?"

"_I'm sure we can rustle something up for you."_

"Shiny. I'm feeling a mite peckish." An inane conversation, perhaps, but nothing new in Mal's world. Humour was often used to leaven a deadly situation, or to get rid of tension, like now. "Although I've got a favour to ask you first."

"_Go ahead, ask. I might even say yes."_

"Can you board the Interceptor? Frey's there and I ain't sure she's safe. I need –"

On board Cherokee Jez didn't let him finish, knowing exactly how Mal felt about his wife. "No problem." She looked down at her own husband. "Can you get a lock?"

Noah's nimble fingers were already playing an adagio over the control board, matching Cherokee's spin and velocity to the stricken Interceptor. "What do you think?" he asked, grinning.

She touched his shoulder lovingly, then pulled the internal com down. "Laura, get your guns. We're going visiting."


	27. Chapter 27

Mal waited until the Golden Dragon's shuttle launched to take Flynn and Simon back to Serenity. Jayne, a capable pilot, had carried the stricken man on board, then stuck his head out of the airlock once more.

"You sure you don't want me to come back?"

"No. I don't think there's any fight left in them, and if there is, I'm sure your wife can deal with it."

Jayne grinned. "Yeah. My moonbrain ain't to be trifled with."

"You really are expanding your vocabulary, aren't you?" Mal shook his head in good humour.

"She does me word lists, like Frey does with the kids. Makes me learn 'em. Then we practice using 'em. Sometimes all night." The chuckle he gave was about as dirty as a man could get, and considering just who this particular man was, it was downright filthy.

Mal looked pained. "You know, I really think I didn't need to know that."

Jayne ducked back but appeared again almost immediately. "Hey, remember when I nearly had to deliver Ethan 'cause the shuttle went down? That was a day and a half. Think you're ever gonna get her knocked up again?"

"Jayne. Go."

Jayne grinned and disappeared, the shuttle door closing immediately. In just a couple of minutes Mal felt the shudder that announced they had successfully disengaged, and he turned towards the bay door. The figure of a woman had him drawing up short in surprise.

"Zoe." His first mate stood gazing at him, smiling slightly. "You planning on giving me another heart attack?" he asked, his hand on his chest.

"Not particularly, sir."

"Good." He glanced behind her. "Where's Kaylee?"

"Well, since the Empress isn't gonna be blown up any time soon, she's working with the liner's engineers to get their power back up and running."

"We sure about the not being blown up part?"

"Pretty much. I think the timer getting to zero and nothing happening is a damn good indication."

"I conjure you're right." Mal nodded. "So I'm figuring she wouldn't leave."

"Nope. She insisted."

"That girl'll do anything to work on an engine."

"That she will, sir."

"Reckon she'll be asking for a raise?"

"I don't doubt it, sir."

"Me neither."

"River, on the other hand, was wondering when you were going to get back to her. She's got the other Laus at the end of Vera, and I don't think her trigger finger is all that steady."

"You found her?"

"Just now."

"Then I'd better stop her 'fore she spreads parts they need across the bulkhead. And break the news about their brother."

"Their brother?"

"Chester. He's the one makin' a mess."

Zoe looked around at the human detritus, her expression barely changing. "I'm not sure they'll cry."

"Then I'll bring in my secret weapon."

"Kaylee?"

"Yep. She'll make anyone feel sad, she turns on the waterworks."

"I think Simon would rather you didn't."

"Ah well. Then they're just gonna have to put up with me."

"I'm sure they'll cope, sir. What about Frey?"

Mal glanced out of the window towards the Interceptor, Cherokee approaching the damaged vessel. "Jez is dealing with that right now."

* * *

General Harrington had spent the last several minutes swearing loudly and with imagination at his ship, all the gods he could think of, and particularly the bastard who'd taken out his engine.

Freya didn't make matters any better by insisting on grinning widely and calling out, "Oops."

"Shut up," he snarled back at her, continuing to attempt resuscitation on the control boards, knowing he was a sitting duck if he couldn't bring his guns to bear, but nothing he did was ever going to breathe life back into dead circuits.

Interceptors, by their very nature and armaments, usually won any fight they were in, and it was this fact that had persuaded the new crop of designers at Blue Sun, in their infinite wisdom and from the height of hubris, to decide at the blueprint stage that a shuttle wasn't necessary on a Viral class. Besides, it would have ruined the sleek lines of their creation. It was only due to the insistence of the Alliance inspectors that an escape pod was a hasty addition, but it was slipped in directly under the engine so as not to be too noticeable, and the rail gun's rounds had penetrated to its release mechanism. The way things stood, Harrington wasn't going anywhere.

Saffron, in the sweaty lull between contractions, put in, "You deserve everything you get." She glanced down at the man currently between her thighs, not an uncommon sight but perhaps not in these circumstances. "Well?"

Dr Barkin looked up. "Soon. You're actually progressing really quickly now."

"Good." Saffron could feel another wave coming. "The sooner the better."

"Okay, get ready to start panting."

She swore at him, proving that in some ways it really was _like father, like daughter_.

Harrington stormed into the small lounge. "It's all your fault," he said, kicking at Freya, connecting with her thigh even though she tried to scramble away.

She bit her tongue, preferring to taste blood rather than allow herself to give him the satisfaction of crying out. Instead she waited for the pain to subside a little before managing to say, "Interesting point of view."

"Who the hell are you?" He glared down at her.

"Nobody. Nobody at all."

"For a damn nobody, someone's going to a lot of trouble to get you back."

"I guess I'm just lucky that way."

"Well, you won't be much longer." He reached down, about to release the cuffs, ready to tug her to her feet. "I might not be able to shoot your ship out of the sky, but at least you can go for a long walk." He glanced significantly towards the airlock.

"No!" Barkin shouted, getting to his feet. "You leave her alone!"

Harrington turned slowly. "Are you planning on stopping me?"

"If I have to." Barkin balled his fists, holding them up in front of him in the classic pugilist attitude.

Harrington smiled as he drew his gun, his demeanour as cold as ice. "It looks like my daughter is going to have to do without her doctor, too."

The ship shuddered.

"Too late," Freya whispered.

* * *

Cherokee crept forward until their airlocks mated and Noah got confirmation of a firm seal. "Jez, we're set," he said over his internal com. "Cherokee's overridden their controls so their door will open when ours does."

"'_Kay. We're going in."_

"Be careful."

"_Aren't I always?"_

"No. Otherwise I wouldn't say it."

Down in the cargo bay Jez smiled tightly at Laura, then nodded. The gunhand opened the inner airlock door, the Interceptor's following suit.

Harrington stared at the two women framed in the doorway. "What the hell ..." He dragged his gun around, determined to end these interlopers on board his ship.

Freya was quicker. She swept her legs, her calves connecting with his shins, pushing him off balance. He fired, but the bullet whined over Laura's head into Cherokee's bay, burying itself in a crate.

Laura, her reflexes on a par with Jayne's, resisted the urge to duck – which would have been far too late anyway – and pulled her own trigger.

Harrington's gun flew from his fingers to hit the wall, dropping to the deck with a clang that seemed to reverberate throughout the small ship. He tried to get his equilibrium back, but Freya kicked out, the toe of her boot catching him behind his knee and throwing him forwards onto his chest, winding him.

Hands gripped him, turning him over, and he came face to face with a woman with dark, chin-length hair and a strong nose.

"Do not shoot up my ship," Jez ground out, the barrel of her gun grinding bone under Harrington's chin.

Saffron screamed, despite the painkillers Barkin had given her, and he was back at his station in a moment, checking her progress.

"I want to push," Saffron ground out.

"Not yet."

"Don't you rutting tell me when I can gorram push!" she yelled at him. "Who's having this baby?"

"Mrs Reynolds –"

"Don't you _Mrs Reynolds_ me!" In a strangely appropriate way, the congested colour of her face was rapidly coming to match her hair.

"Mrs Reynolds?" Jez asked, spoke to Freya, her gun not moving a micron. "There something I've missed somewhere?"

Freya sighed, but made the introductions. "Jez, meet Saffron. Saffron, meet Jez."

"Saffron? As in _the _Saffron? As in the leaving of a certain Firefly captain naked in the middle of the desert Saffron?"

Another sigh, bigger than the previous, erupted from Freya's lips. "The very same."

"As in the trying to get him arrested for bigamy Saffron?"

"Yes."

"As in the –"

"Yes."

Jez risked raking her eyes up and down the pregnant woman. "You think there's something Mal's not telling you?"

"Laura, can you get his key?" Freya ignored her, saying instead as she rattled the cuffs, "It's in his vest pocket."

Laura went down onto her heels, feeling inside Harrington's jacket and coming up with the key. It was only the work of a moment to release Freya, helping her to stand when her knees tried to give way.

"Are you okay?" Laura asked, her eyes full of concern.

"Concussed, I think," Freya admitted. "Someone hit me." She managed to straighten up. "I'll be fine."

"Best you get your Simon to take a look at you when you get home."

"Home." Freya had to smile. "I can't wait."

"I know the feeling," Laura agreed fervently.

All the while they were talking, neither Jez nor Harrington had moved, but now Cherokee's captain said, very quietly, "Take them back on board our ship."

Laura's eyebrows drew down. "No, I think I should stay with you."

Jez grinned, putting everyone in mind of a shark eyeing up its next meal. "It's okay. I'll be fine. Just take them with you. I think this gentleman and me need to have a little chat."

"Jez –" Freya began.

"It's okay. Make sure Mrs Reynolds here is comfortable. I'm sure Ida will help."

Freya studied her face, and, if truth be told, tried to read her mind a little. For a long moment she considered staying, but with the concussion she was sure she had, she'd be little use. Instead she nodded, then moved closer, whispering something.

Jez's face hardened. "Thanks," she murmured. "Mal told me a little, but …"

"Just be careful," Freya warned, then followed Barkin as he assisted Saffron out into Cherokee's main bay.

Laura took one long, last look at her best and oldest friend then strode out after them, stationing herself just the other side of the airlock, gun still drawn, and damn her orders.

Jez let Harrington sit up, holding his hand to the rapidly-forming bruise under his chin, feeling a little blood where the barrel had broken the skin.

"_Puo foo_," he spat.

"Not nice." Jez moved slowly backwards until she could sit on the padded bench along the wall. "And here I am sincerely wondering whether I'm going to let you go or not."

"Of course you are." He examined the redness on his hand. "I'm General Sean Harrington, and if you touch me again I'll have you hunted down and executed."

She held it in, the hatred every Browncoat felt for the man who'd left so many of their compatriots to die while he discussed the fine print of the surrender of Serenity Valley. Instead of gutting him there and then, she merely said, "You think so, do you? Because as far as I can see, you were the one about to fire on another ship, probably on the liner too. But then, I suppose you can't leave witnesses, can you?"

His lips tightened. "No idea what you're talking about."

"Of course not." She smiled slightly. "So what was this all about? Taking hostages, including a pregnant woman."

"She's my daughter."

"Is that so? Because I didn't see much in the way of fatherly concern over her. More like you were looking at her as a brood mare."

"Nonsense. I was merely taking her home. And this is none of your business."

"Hmmn. See, I might agree, except that I know different." The words Freya had whispered to her friend danced around her head like leaves caught in a funnel of wind. "Somehow I don't think her welfare is at the top of your agenda."

"As I said it's none of your affair. But just to satisfy your curiosity, she carries my grandson."

"No. She carries _her_ son." Jez looked at this man, glaring at her, probably wishing she would spontaneously combust. She studied him. "And you were going to take him from her."

"What if I was?" He'd had enough. He got to his feet, slowly, carefully, leaning on the bulkhead. "My daughter is a disgrace. Do you know what she does? She marries men then robs them. Do you think that's a good mother for my grandson?"

"That's not up to you to decide."

"But it is." He stood straight. "I won't have this boy raised by someone like that. My name dragged through the mud." He moved slightly to his left. "The child will come with me. He will be raised properly. To respect his elders."

Jez heard the words, but it was from another man, echoed back from more than twenty years, sitting behind that damn desk, his hands clasped on the green leather. _He's my grandson. And I'll make sure he's brought up to respect his elders. Unlike you. _Different face, same gorram attitude."No."

General Harrington glared at her. "You have nothing to do with this. He belongs to me."

"I won't let you."

"You honestly think you're going to be able to stop me? My dear woman, do you have any idea who I am?" He made it sound like an insult. "I have money. Connections. You have nothing. You're insignificant. I will get what I want. Whether it's now or later. But I will have that child."

"Oh, I know exactly who you are. And I'm telling you, it isn't happening."

He'd been moving, almost imperceptibly, travelling along the wall towards the bridge, and now he lunged, grabbing the gun that had flown from his fingers, aiming and firing in the same movement.


	28. Chapter 28

Nothing happened. Harrington stared at the gun in disbelief, then pulled the trigger again. Still nothing. Again and again, until with a roar of rage he threw it at Jez. She stepped to one side, the useless weapon missing her head by no more than a couple of inches.

"Looks like you had your turn," she said, not really surprised. She'd seen where Laura's bullet had hit the weapon, and she'd bet her life that it wasn't going to fire. "You know, sometimes I really don't understand men."

Harrington stood straight, his back solid, but a line of sweat on his top lip showed he was nervous. Perhaps even just a little bit scared. "Don't understand?"

"Mmn. You think you can take what you want. That because you have position and power, you're above the law. I've known men like you all my life. Pretending to be all noble and honourable, when inside you're eaten up with getting what you want, when you want it. All smoke and mirrors ..." She shook her head. "Nobody's ever said no to you before, have they?"

He sneered at her. "They don't have the right. _You_ don't have the right."

"Really? I thought I already had." She tilted her head, just a little, her gun not moving. "And you've failed."

"I don't fail."

"Wanna bet your life on that?"

Harrington swallowed. "You don't have the guts."

"I've got a gun on you. What do _you_ think?"

"If you kill me, I can promise you this – the Alliance will hunt you down. They'll take that ship of yours and turn it into scrap, and your crew will be sent to a penal colony for life. You, on the other hand ... you'll hang. And I hope it takes a long time for you to die, choking and –"

If he saw the bullet that ended his life leave the barrel of Jez's gun, he might have been surprised. But in all likelihood he didn't even notice it until his brains were decorating the wall of the Interceptor.

"My turn," Jez muttered.

As the noise died away, Laura ran in, ready to do battle. "Jez?"

"It's okay," her friend said quietly. "He won't be bothering anyone again."

Laura looked at the body of General Sean Harrington, slumped against the bulkhead, his eyes wide and staring, a hole drilled neatly between them. Her nose twitched slightly at the tinny smell of fresh blood. "It's done, then."

"It's done," Jez echoed. Still staring at the man she'd killed, she added, "Can you get Marcel in here? I've got something I want him to do."

* * *

Mal studied the three men in front of him. Jarrett Lau was still supporting his brother, Aiden, while a third man – apparently the only other member of the Golden Dragon crew to survive – huddled against the bulkhead, not taking his eyes off River. Which was not particularly surprising, considering she was cradling Vera like the Callahan was a baby. Odd how sexually charged the image was, while at the same time surprisingly innocent.

He turned to Zoe. "Go get the girls ready to leave."

"Kaylee won't."

"I know. But I've got the feeling Inara can't wait to get off that deathtrap, and she's gonna make Val and Phoebe leave with her."

"What about you, sir?" She glanced significantly at the Laus.

"Oh, I think I'll be fine. My albatross here won't let anything happen to me. Will you, _xiao nu_?"

River smiled faintly. "No, _jia yan_."

"See?" Mal turned back to Zoe. "I'll meet you all back at the shuttle."

"Yes, sir." She headed for the airlock, then chuckled. "At least it's mostly downhill."

"That it is, Zo. That it is." Mal watched her leave, then faced the Laus again. "Well now, this is something, don't you think?"

"What are you planning on doing with us?" Jarrett asked, licking his lips.

"Still thinking on that. See, I figure we're even," Mal said, his hands on the gunbelt he'd now buckled over the medtech uniform, his weapon still holstered, knowing his little psychic assassin would take anyone out that tried anything. "Last time you got the coins. This time we won."

"And our ship's disabled!" Jarrett insisted.

"Yeah. But you'd've killed us." Mal's icy blue stare seemed to make the younger Lau slide back a little.

Aiden struggled to sit up, wincing in pain despite the bandages he now sported, evidence of Simon's ministrations. "You haven't heard the last of this."

"No?" Mal raised just one eyebrow. "You were planning on blowing up the Empress. Murdering a whole bunch of people. What do you think's gonna happen to you if I turn you over to the captain? Hell, you might not even make trial, not if the passengers on board get to hear about it. You'd probably be joining Chester in being scattered all over."

Jarrett looked at his brother. "Aiden …"

"He's bluffing."

"Why would I do that? It'd take a load off my shoulders." Mal's lips lifted humourlessly. "And I wouldn't be having to look over 'em for the rest of my natural, either." He paused. "You know what, how 'bout we find out?" He took a step towards the door.

"No!" Jarrett said quickly. All three men had paled, obviously picturing exactly what a few hundred irate passengers could do to them. There'd probably be less of them left than Chester. "So what do you suggest?" he asked.

"Honestly, if'n I were you, I'd make like I was an innocent bystander." Mal stroked his cheek with the back of his fingers. "Tell 'em you came to give assistance to an obviously stricken ship, and just got in the way. Blame the Interceptor for everything. Nobody's gonna really remember what exactly happened when."

"They won't believe it."

"Anybody see you? Able to remember you?"

"Well, no, not –"

"Jarrett, don't you dare," Aiden threatened.

"_Bizui_," his younger sibling said, surprising them all. "I've had enough of you and your plans. You've been getting us into trouble my whole life, and I'm sick of it. You just lie there and let me deal with it."

Aiden was so shocked he couldn't answer, and after a moment his jaw slammed shut, hard enough that Mal could believe he'd probably cracked at least a tooth or two. "That's better," the captain of Serenity said.

"So you're not going to kill us," Jarrett wanted to clarify.

"As much as it pains me, no. If you were shooting at me or mine, then yeah, I'd have no problem. But I ain't a murderer, so I'm giving you an out. Your ship ain't going anywhere, most of your crew's dead … but if you want I can let my young friend loose, like she's itching to do."

Jarrett glanced up at River, who was stroking Vera's barrel, and an idle thought crossed his mind that he could take her, and the man standing in front of them …

"And no," Mal went on. "You can't." River had dropped Jarrett's thoughts into his brain. "She may look like she's gonna blow away in the first puff of breeze, but she's a holy terror when riled. And she's getting that way." He pointed. "See, you can tell by that vein, throbbing away in her forehead." The look in her eyes was almost enough to make him laugh out loud, but he held it back. "Okay. So … what's it going to be?"

Aiden found his voice. "Jarrett, you ain't gonna talk for me, and I say –"

Jarrett pushed his brother back, almost inadvertently pressing on the wound in his shoulder and making him cry out.

"And just so's you can make the right decision," Mal added, "you'd best remember Chester's _dead_." He emphasised the last word.

"You murdered him," Aiden managed to grind out.

"Nope. That was someone else. Poetic justice, you might say."

"Dead …" Jarrett echoed. "No longer in charge …"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Aiden demanded, ignoring the pain as best he could.

Mal chuckled dryly. "I think what he's figured out is that now your big bro's gone, the pair of you are in charge. Of everything, including the Lau money." He watched the series of expressions cross the now eldest Lau's face, from anger to confusion melting quickly to understanding.

"You mean ..."

"Sure. A'course, you'll have to hand back what you took from the passengers, or at least make it look like the bad guys dropped it, but I conjure there's enough in your accounts to live like a king for a long time to come."

"Our accounts …"

Jarrett nodded. "You got a deal."

Aiden automatically went to argue, but a glance from his brother had him subsiding, only muttering Chinese curses under his breath.

"Shiny." Mal wondered just how long it would take before Jarrett Lau was the main man, telling his older brother what to do, reining him in, and how long Aiden would let him. When it all went to hell … well, that would be an interesting day. "We'll leave you to break the news of the unfortunate death of your brother to the Empress's captain." He turned on his heel, feeling rather than hearing River at his back.

"Wait," Jarrett called. "Like you said, we're dead in the water. What about the Dragon?"

Mal grinned. "That weren't part of the deal. Better hope the Empress's engineers are in a helpful frame of mind."

* * *

"Okay, we gotta reroute the main couplings 'round the damaged sections, then there's a short someplace along the manifold, so one of us will have to ..." Kaylee stopped, aware the other engineers were all smiling at her. "Gorramit," she muttered, going red. "Sorry. I didn't mean to stick my nose into ... it's just ... it's an engine, you know? And when an engine is broke I just gotta ... fix ... it ..." Her voice faded away.

Cho put his hand on her arm, squeezing gently. "We know, Ms Kaylee. We know. We all feel the same."

Kaylee managed a rueful grin. "Sorry," she murmured again.

"Okay." Cho clapped his hands together. "As Ms Kaylee here said, first we reroute the couplings, then we break out the suits to find that short ..."

* * *

"You've taken your time," Inara said accusingly, standing in the middle of the shuttle, her hands on her hips.

Mal, under the influence of not having been shot, knifed, stabbed or had any other violence perpetrated directly on him, just grinned at her. "Well, the Empress's captain … uh … insisted I have a word. To thank me for all my hard work."

"Your …" Her eyes were as wide as he'd ever seen them, and he realised it felt good to be goading her again.

The truth of the matter was that, as Mal and River made their way back towards the shuttle, three members of the liner's crew, armed and looking as nervous as hell, had confronted them and demanded they follow. River, with admirable restraint, smiled sweetly at them and slung Vera around to her back, looking for all the 'verse like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth, and giving the impression – despite the Callahan still at the ready – that she was merely out for a day's stroll with her current beau.

"Of course," she said, slipping her arm through Mal's, and quite incidentally stopping him from drawing his own weapon. "Lead the way."

Captain Harjinder Singh, his pristine white turban fairly bristling with indignation, stood in the centre of the ballroom, surrounded by members of his crew and a large number of passengers. "Explain yourself!" he demanded, his beard vibrating. "What the hell are you doing shooting up my ship?"

"Oddly enough, it wasn't me, sir." Mal stood calmly, respectfully, taking a leaf out of Freya's book and radiating understanding as hard as he could. "Those that did that ain't likely to be bothering you again." He glanced towards what appeared to be bodies lying under white tablecloths, now red in various places. "In fact, I see some of 'em not bothering you right here."

"Yes, well …" Singh narrowed his eyes. "Are you a medtech?" he asked, looking at the uniform.

"Technically, no. 'Though I did help pull a bullet out of a feller's leg just a while back. But my name's Malcolm Reynolds. I captain a Firefly, Serenity, and we just came to help."

"Help?" Singh's anger was slightly blunted, but he looked very confused. "Help?"

"See, some of my family are on board, taking a trip. For instance, you got my mechanic down in your engine room right now, trying to put things right, so I don't think –"

"Oh, are you Uncle Mal?" a young girl interrupted, stepping out from behind a large man and neatly avoiding his protective arms.

He paused, taking her in, her exuberance and red hair scarcely dimmed by the events of the evening. "Mal Reynolds, yes."

"Oh, that's great!" she gushed. "Val and Phoebe have told me so much about you – they think you're wonderful."

"Do they, now." He couldn't help the slight smile. "Always did think that pair had something of a crush on me."

"And I can see why. You're _suai._"

The man with her, probably her father, said in exasperation, "Joy!"

"What, Pa?" She shrugged off the admonition. "He is. Prettiest thing I've seen on this whole trip."

"That's … real nice of you to say that," Mal said somewhat haltingly, feeling out of his depth in the face of such a barrage, and was rewarded with a wide smile.

Captain Singh looked doubtfully between the two. "You know this man, Miss Danette?"

"Of him, sure." She grinned at him. "The Reilly twins are his nieces, and Inara Serra, you know, the ex-Companion? Well she's … well, not sure what she is, but Kaylee Frye is –"

Singh put his hand up to forestall any further explanations. "I think I can gather the rest. But even if his compatriots are on board, that's no guarantee he isn't responsible for all of this … this mayhem."

Joy looked shocked. "Captain Singh. I know he came to help us. Gorramit, it was probably his man mountain killed those men that were gonna …" She stopped, her cheeks paling for a moment. "Saved me," she added quietly.

"Man mountain?" Mal asked, his imagination filling in the gaps. "Let me guess. Taller'n me, short hair, goatee … likes to wear grenades?"

Joy nodded fiercely. "He killed 'em." She nodded towards the bodies shrouded on the floor. "Saved us all."

"Yeah, that'd be Jayne."

"Jayne?" Singh echoed.

"Don't ask."

"_Life which has been granted by God_."

Everyone turned to look at River.

"What's that, honey?" Mal asked, wondering if the action had perhaps loosened her hold on reality, and visually making sure her hands weren't anywhere near Vera.

"Captain Singh's first name. Harjinder. It means _life which has been granted by God_."

Singh stared. "How did she know …"

"She probably saw it somewhere, on our way through," Mal bluffed. "And for the rest … I'm always surprised what my … what she knows." _And no reading folks minds, albatross,_ he added mentally. _Not when we're trying' to make friends._

_Hs mind is so clean. So clear. Like my Jayne._

He raised his eyebrow at her, but didn't deign to comment.

"Well, it appears as if it is not just God who has granted me my life this time, but you also," Singh said, his speech becoming more formal. "Thank you."

"Happy to help." Mal looked around the room. "Only I've got a ship to be getting back to myself."

"Of course. But what about your mechanic?"

"Kaylee? It'd probably take another explosion to drag her away from your engine. You'd better keep her 'til she's done."

"It seems I am even more in your debt."

"Nope. Just doing what any good-minded folk would do." He tried one of his trademark lazy smiles. "A'course, I'd be grateful if you made sure none of your crew shot at us on the way back."

"Done." Singh nodded to one of his men, who stood to attention in readiness.

"Thanks."

Singh's mouth opened, then closed, and finally he made up his mind. "How did you know?" he asked. "That we needed help? There's no Cortex, we haven't even been able to get a beacon sent … how did you know?"

Mal smiled slightly. "Well, my mechanic don't like to be out of touch with her family for long, and she's a wonder with electronics …" He left it hanging, not exactly lying, but certainly evading the question with aplomb.

Singh took it at face value. "Of course. Then I'm just glad that you were in the vicinity."

"My pleasure." His lips twitched. "'Though you might wanna go take a look at your airlock on level five. Seemed to me there might be some other visitors."

"More pirates?" Singh's anger started to mount up again. "We'll see about them."

Mal and River backed up, heading for the door and the walk to the shuttle, but not before Joy Danette smiled at him, and waved her fingers.

He resisted the temptation to wave back, only muttering as they started up the corridor, their escort leading the way, "How come I'm so attractive to young women?"

"She left her guide dog at home," River replied, then skipped ahead before he could come up with a decent answer.

And now, with Inara glaring at him, the Reilly twins looking relieved, and Zoe with that slight smirk on her face, he just smiled.

His first mate asked, a chuckle in her tone, "Do you want me to drive, sir?"

"Nope. On account of your bad shoulder you'd better rest it. 'Sides, we got ourselves a chauffeur."

River had slipped on board unnoticed behind him, and was already prepping the shuttle.

"Of course."

Mal looked at Val and Phoebe. "You two okay? Not hurt at all?"

"No. We're fine," Val said quickly. "Uncle Mal … Flynn … he …"

He sat down next to them on the long bench. "I know. And I think maybe you should know he kinda redeemed himself. Took out the really bad guy all on his own. So maybe you might want to think of cutting him a little slack. Seeing as Simon's working on him right now."

"Simon?" Val's face went pale, her hands clutching at Phoebe's. "You mean he's …"

"I hadn't actually told her," Zoe said on a sigh. "I was going to break the news gently."

"I thought I _was_ being gentle."

"Sorry, sir. My mistake." She didn't sound at all apologetic, though.

"Hell, he's alive. That's pretty much all that can be said for most of us."

"Yes, sir."

The shuttle disengaged with a slight jerk, and they sat quietly for a few moments.

Mal finally cleared his throat. "I meant to ask. Did you have a good time?"

"Yes sir. Until the pirate part."

"Well, can't have everything."

"Captain, I think you need to see this," River called from the small bridge, her voice worried.

He stood up, striding the few feet to where she sat at the controls. "What?"

"That."

His forehead lowered. "What're they doing?" he asked, seeing Cherokee get under power, the Interceptor still attached. "They can't fly like that. It'll tear them ..." He pulled down the com. "Noah, what the hell are you doing?"

"_It's okay, Mal,"_ came back the pilot's voice. _"Watch."_

Cherokee was moving, take the other ship with it, getting faster, then, just as Mal was sure he was about to see something structural rip off, Noah released the Interceptor from the soft seal he'd maintained. In a manoeuvre reminiscent of Hank and his disabling of the Golden Dragon, Mal watched as Cherokee lifted her nose and pulled away, allowing the other vessel to continue under its own impetus on into The Halo.

It disappeared among the asteroids, then Mal heard voices faintly over the com.

"_Ready?"_ Noah, but not talking to them.

"_You think it's far enough?"_ Jez, this time.

"_Much further and I can't guarantee the signal will get through."_

"_Then do it."_ Her voice came through as an order.

Out in The Halo, in the same direction that the Interceptor had taken, there was a glare of white light that expanded rapidly into a huge ball of energy before winking out.

"Was that ..." Inara, standing behind Mal, her hand on his shoulder, couldn't finish.

"Think so," Mal agreed. "Can't say I'm sorry. From what I heard tell, couldn't happen to a nicer guy."

Zoe glanced at him. For all the flippancy in the remark, she could tell he was grimly satisfied, knowing that, in a small way, all those men who'd died at Serenity Valley had been avenged. Just a little.


	29. Chapter 29

The shuttle had barely been winched in before Hank was out of his seat and down the stairs, almost colliding with his son as he barrelled along the catwalk.

"Mama!" Ben yelled as the door opened, tackling his mother even while she had hold of the release, and not looking like he was ever going to let go.

"Hey, honey," Zoe said, ruffling his hair. "You know, I think you've grown."

"Have I?"

"Mmn." She went down onto her heels to look into his coffee-coloured face. "You been good for your daddy?"

"Mostly."

"Only mostly?"

Ben did the foot roll favoured by virtually all the Serenity children. "Most of it was Bethie's fault."

Zoe had to smile, running her fingertips across his cheek. "I'm sure it was." She looked up at Hank, hanging back a little, and stood up. "Hey."

"Hey." Hank was studying her closely.

"All here," she whispered, understanding everything.

"Good. Honestly though, can't I let you go anywhere without me but you get into trouble?" He managed to get an impressive amount of peevishness into his tone.

"Better not let me go anywhere on my own again."

"Don't intend on it." He swept her into his arms, crushing her lips with his. For a long moment there was no other sound.

Mal, leaning on the bulkhead, cleared his throat. Then again when they showed no signs of parting. And a third time.

"You wanna get that seen to, Mal," Hank said, pulling away only just enough to speak.

"Can I remind you I'm captain? And some of us actually want to get off?"

"Hush, Mal," Inara admonished. "They missed each other."

"You gonna be like this when we drop you back on Lazarus? You gonna eat Sam's face off too?"

"Mal, really. You can be so crude. I don't know how Freya puts up with you."

"True love, 'Nara. True love."

"It must be. And yes, I probably will show a great deal of affection when I get home. And you probably won't want to watch."

He shuddered theatrically. "Thanks for sharing, 'Nara."

"You're welcome."

River slipped behind the pilot and first mate. "Cherokee wants to dock," she said simply, disappearing through the doorway and heading for the bridge.

"She does?" Hank looked over his shoulder at her retreating figure, then back at his wife. "Honey, I think I'd better … knowing what River can be like after a fight …"

Zoe nodded. "Go. I'll keep myself warm for you."

"Zoe, please!" Mal shook his head, while Phoebe giggled.

Hank grinned and ran out.

"Let's see if you can keep _your_ hands off Freya when you see her," Inara remarked, her voice holding just the right amount of acid.

"Like I keep telling folk, I'm captain. I don't have to obey the rules."

"Mmn." Inara rubbed her hands together. "Right. I think, after the activities of the past few hours, we all need a nap." She looked pointedly at the twins, one eyebrow raised.

Mal waited for Val, or more likely Phoebe, to complain, but they surprised him.

"Yes, Aunt 'Nara," Val said simply.

"Not going to see your young man?" Mal teased gently.

"No." Val lifted her head. "And he's not my young man."

Inara glared at him again. "I think this is probably a discussion for later. _After _you've arranged for our luggage to be brought back from the Empress."

This time Phoebe did open her mouth to protest, but Val squeezed her arm hard, and she merely yelped.

"What do I look like, a bellhop?" Mal asked.

"It must be the uniform," Inara said, sweeping out of the shuttle and heading towards the passenger quarters, collecting the girls on the way.

"Ain't I gonna get the last word at all?" Mal called, leaning out of the airlock.

"Probably not, sir," Zoe said, manoeuvring past him, Ben's hand held tightly in hers.

Mal glared at her, about to make a sharp retort, but Hank's voice echoed through the bay.

"_Cherokee's here."_

* * *

"Yes!" Kaylee pumped her fist into the air as the main array showed power was flowing again. Mullings had obviously fixed the short, and as she watched the needles continued their rise. Above her the lights flickered on, dimmed, then came back full force. "That's my girl!"

Cho laughed. "Won't your own ship get jealous?" he asked, smiling as he wiped the sweat from his face.

"Hell, no. Serenity knows I'm just on loan for a while, and I'll be coming home soon." There was a slight hitch in her voice.

The engineer had noticed. "You're missing your family?"

Her face fell. "A bit. Knowing they're so close, like I can almost touch 'em …"

"You could always go back. Leave the rest to us."

She shook her head, renewed determination shining from every pore. "Nope. My daddy'd tan my hide if he found out I'd left a job half done. And I'd let him."

Cho put one arm around her shoulders and squeezed gently. "Ms Kaylee, you ever decide to leave that husband o'yours, you let me know."

She blushed prettily, even under the grime. Then she grinned. "Come on. Still got work to do."

* * *

Mal pulled the door to one side.

"You know, we've got to stop meeting like this," Jez said, leaning nonchalantly on the opening.

"You think folks are gonna talk?"

"Bound to."

"Hmmn. I guess I'll have to try and stay out of trouble, then."

"Unlikely." She smiled, but there was something hidden within it, something Mal recognised all too easily. Guilt.

"So what happened?" he asked gently. "Harrington give you any trouble?" Yes, that was it. He saw it flash behind her eyes.

"No, no trouble."

"So he's not gonna come back and bite me in the ass."

"Difficult, seeing as he's in some thousands of pieces."

He couldn't hold it in any longer. "Jez, what the _diyu _did you do?"

It hadn't been hard. What Marcel didn't know about explosives could probably be written on the back of a protein packet, in quite big letters. And they always carried some. Explosives, that is. For emergencies.

"How big?" Marcel had asked, his fingers already itching.

"Enough to set off the self-destruct."

He looked around the Interceptor. "This thing got one?"

Jez's lips lifted slightly. "Haven't you read the alerts? It's a new directive from the Alliance – all new ships are to have one. In case they fall into the wrong hands."

"You mean Browncoats."

"Brown, black, sky-blue pink … it doesn't matter the colour of their jackets," Jez said, deliberately misunderstanding. "They just don't want people to have something they've not paid for."

"Now that's just mean." He was mentally configuring something as he spoke. "Do you want it to look like an accident?"

Jez was silent for a moment. "Might not be a bad idea," she said slowly. "As he pointed out, someone's going to come looking for the good General at some point. I'd hate to think they might get the idea it was foul play."

Marcel grinned. "Then better not use the self-destruct. I can rig something on top of the fuel cells. It'll look like the system flared."

"What about the rail gun rounds? Won't they be noticeable?"

"Not with what I plan. And if they do, well, pirates use them too." He glanced at the body still lying against the wall, and looked away just as quickly. "Best you get him into the pilot's seat, though. Just in case."

"Shiny." She stepped to the corpse, bending down to take hold of the ankles.

"You … uh … want me to give you a hand?"

"No." She smiled a little for him. "But thanks. You just do your bit. I'll deal with this."

He knew she could tell he was immensely relieved. "Just take me a couple of minutes."

She nodded, tugging Harrington away from the bulkhead. His head hit the floor, squelching slightly, and Marcel hurried out to get his tools.

"… which is exactly what we did," Jez said, back on Serenity.

"So you blew it up," Mal mused.

"Figured it was the best way to go." She shrugged. "No evidence means no Alliance, and I think we're both going to be glad about that."

"I suppose it's occurred to you that there's folks onboard the Empress think the Interceptor was the root of all their problems."

"Now, isn't that a shame?" A smile, more real that the last, warmed her face.

"I kinda think so. Considering how much those ships go for. I could probably have found a buyer."

"What, like Badger? He'd have sold you and the Interceptor without even blinking, you know that."

He sighed hugely. "I know. Just hate to see all that cold, hard cashey-money going up in flames."

"No flames in space, Mal. Or didn't you know that?"

"I think I've heard something to that end, yeah." He looked past her into the interior of Cherokee. "By the way, where's my wife?"

"In my sickbay."

Something stirred in Mal's gut, tightening. "Is she okay?"

"A bit woozy, to tell the truth. At the moment she's sitting with Saffron."

Mal's eyes widened. "You mean that _puo foo_ really _is_ on board? I thought it was just Zoe having a mental episode."

Jez laughed. "Not quite. Right now the erstwhile Mrs Reynolds is cursing every God, the doc with her, Ida … although I think only the latter's likely to space her."

"Considering how Frey feels, I wouldn't count on it." He adjusted his gunbelt. "Better go see, I guess."

"Not that you're concerned at all about your wife."

"Oh, no. Never that." He smiled and followed her across to Cherokee.

* * *

At the doorway to the small infirmary, stocked almost as well as his own, Mal waited for a moment just to watch Freya. She was dabbing at Saffron's forehead with a wet cloth, but from the slight valley between her eyebrows he was guessing she was sending soothing thoughts too. "Frey," he said softly.

She looked up, love lighting her features and warming him through. "Mal." She got to her feet and in a moment they were no more than a breath apart.

He tugged her into his arms, holding her as tightly as he could, trying to blend their bodies together until they were physically one person, and she let him. Ignoring the pain in her leg and wrists, she closed her eyes and simply luxuriated in his proximity, her mind reaching out and finding his, wrapping herself around and through him, stating her love more firmly than any words could ever do.

"Missed you," he said simply into her ear.

"Me too."

"Nearly lost you."

"Never."

"I don't know which is worse," Saffron ground out, her face red from the contraction raging through her. "This or you two."

"Saffron." Mal half-turned to look at the woman lying on medbed. "I'd ask how things were going with you, but I figure I can tell."

"You!" Saffron growled out. "This is all _your_ fault!"

Mal shook his head. "Hey, nothing to do with me," he insisted.

"Yes it is!" Saffron could manage an amazing amount of volume, considering she was in a great deal of pain, although that probably helped. "You poked around in my life, and that meant he was able to …" She had to stop, her face screwing up.

"Try and relax," the man next to her said.

"You gorram relax!"

Ida, her long hair caught up in its usual messy bun, tutted. "Dr Barkin, I really think this isn't helping."

"No, it gorram isn't," Saffron agreed before spitting a long stream of expletives at him, then flopping back as the contraction ended. "You said this baby was coming soon," she gasped.

Dr Barkin shrugged. "Honestly, I don't have that much experience with them. And from what I can remember of that particular rotation, they tend to arrive in their own sweet time."

"Do I even want to know what's going on?" Mal asked. "Not that seeing you in pain isn't fun."

"Sadist."

"It's a long story," Freya put in. "I don't feel in the mood to go into it right now." She let Mal's strength bolster her.

"I'm sure it can wait," Mal said, holding her close.

"And I need to get my patient to the hospital on the Empress," Barkin said firmly.

"Not a good idea." Mal shook his head. "Your liner ain't exactly got all her power up and running yet, so you're probably best staying on board Cherokee, at least for a while. In case of, you know, complications."

"Complications?" Saffron glared at him.

"Saffron, you manage to make my life complicated, and I hardly ever see you."

"_Qu ni made_!"

"Really. Is that any way to talk in front of your child?"

"_Jiao ni shen haizi mei pigu yan!" _Her face screwed up as another wave built.

"Apparently it is."

Barkin lifted the sheet covering Saffron from the hips down. "Don't push yet."

"Oh, shut up!"

Mal sighed. "You know, I don't think _my_ delicate ears can take much more of this." He looked into Freya's eyes. "You wanna come home?"

Freya glanced at Ida, who waved her hands in the universal sign for 'you go, I've got all this under control'. Well, at least someone did. She turned back to her husband. "Permission to come aboard?"

"Give me a few secs to toss River's gear outta the bunk …" He almost yelped as she pinched him. "Permission granted."

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Jez commented from the doorway.

"You get her to tell you about the time I walked in on her and Noah," Ida said, preparing a hypo. "Now that really did make me want to throw up."

Jez glared at her, but she laughed unrepentently.

* * *

Mal and Freya made their way back to Serenity, arms around each other, and as they stepped into her cargo bay they heard voices above them.

"Honey, can I say something about it being alright for some?" Hank said from the catwalk.

Zoe, standing next to him, shook her head. "Probably not a good idea at the moment."

"Then I can hold it in reserve?"

"For best, I think. Only make sure I'm around before you say it."

"Okay."

"You can be replaced, you know," Mal said, feigning irritability.

"No, I can't," Zoe said firmly.

"Well, okay, no. But River flies as well as your … whatever he is. Superior on a good day."

"He's my husband. The Shepherd said so. For better or worse." With an admirably straight face she went on, "And if I thought you meant it, sir, we'd be having words."

"And by words you mean the kind that leave me bleeding?"

"Exactly, sir."

"Then I suppose I'll let it slide. For now."

A commotion in the common area had their combined attention. Ethan and Jesse burst through, running full pelt towards their mother, yelling her name.

She went down onto her heels so she could hug them tightly.

"Mama! Missed you!" Ethan said, tangling his hands in her shirt as always.

"Oh, I missed you too."

"Not going anywhere," he stated firmly. "Ever again."

"I wouldn't be at all surprised," Freya said, chuckling.

"Did you bring us pressies?" Jesse wanted to know, relaxing into the familiar embrace.

The chuckle grew into a laugh, echoed by the rest of Serenity's adults.

"That sounds like Bethie talking," Mal said, ruffling his daughter's hair.

"Not me," said the little Tam in person, framed in the doorway, a strand of her long honey-coloured hair wrapped around her finger. "All Jesse's idea."

"Well, there might be something for good children," Freya admitted, smiling at her.

"S'nice." Except Bethie couldn't manage one back. In fact, the little girl looked so despondent that Freya felt her heart stop.

"Come here," she called.

Bethie needed no more prompting. She jumped through the hatch and ran to join the others. "Momma's not thinking about us," she complained, burrowing into Freya's arms.

"Of course she is."

"Nope. Thinking about renewal packs and insulators."

Freya glanced up at Mal, seeing the indulgent expression on his face, the twitch of his lips. "Look deeper, Bethie," she suggested.

"Shouldn't peek."

"I'm giving you permission."

"'Kay." The very young psychic opened up her mind, and her eyes went wide. "There we are," she whispered in awe.

"Of course." Freya smiled. "Your Momma's always thinking of you on some level. She has to concentrate on something else at the moment, but you're still with her."

"Oh." Bethie grinned.

"Talking of which, where's your sister and David Gabriel?" Mal asked.

"With Uncle Jayne." she giggled. "He's telling stories."

"Stories, huh? Hope they're appropriate."

"No," Bethie admitted, giggling again, obviously feeling much better. The giggle turned into a laugh. "Uncle Mal."

"What, short stub?"

"Auntie Frey can't get up."

"She can't?" He looked at his wife. "You can't?"

"Um … no." For some reason her legs didn't seem to want to work. "I think I might need a hand."

"Frey, one of these days you'll be the death of me," he complained, reaching down and gently lifting her to her feet. "Feeling dizzy?"

"A little," Freya admitted.

"Then lean on me. And I'm taking you to the infirmary to see Simon."

"Come on," Bethie said, seeing Ethan and Jesse's worried faces and feeling their anxiety. "Uncle Jayne's just getting to the blood."

Mal sighed.

* * *

"Concussion," Simon said simply, peering into her eyes as she perched on the counter. "I'm presuming someone hit you."

"That was my fault," Flynn put in from the medbed. "Sorry, Frey."

"You hit my wife?" Mal asked sharply.

"No. That was Aiden. But I … if I hadn't …" He stopped, then added quietly, "Sorry."

"Yeah, well." Mal took a breath. "At least she didn't get shot."

"No, that's your modus operandi," Simon said.

"If'n you're waiting for me to ask what you mean, you'll die an old man 'fore you do."

Freya tried to move away from the pen light Simon was using to check her pupils. "Do you have to?" she asked peevishly.

"Yes. Do you have a headache?"

"A little."

"I'd take that to mean a lot," Mal said quietly, putting his hand on her thigh. "Otherwise she'd've said no."

"Oddly enough, I'd had sufficient experience of dealing with this crew to be able to interpret, captain." Simon always did become a lot more formal when he was examining a patient, an occupational hazard Mal had always thought. "I can give you an analgesic if you'd –"

"No," Freya said quickly, then smiled to take the sting out of her interruption. "Sorry, Simon, but I can deal with it. I was going to meditate for a while anyway."

"Which means my clothes are gonna smell like perfume again," Mal complained, but with no heat.

"You know you love it really."

"Hmmn."

"Well, you know the routine," Simon said, finally switching off the tiny torch and looking at Mal. "Don't let her sleep yet, and if the headache gets worse, or there's double vision, call me straight away."

"The double vision she'll probably keep quiet, but I promise I'll keep her awake."

"And none of that, either," the young doctor said sharply. "Although why I even bother saying that to you two, or anyone else on this crew …"

"You're just pissed because Kaylee's not back."

"I know she's busy." Simon turned his blue eyes on his captain. "It's just you've all seen your spouses. I haven't."

"I can get River to pilot you across, if you like," Mal suggested.

Simon considered it for a moment, then shook his head. "No. I don't want to interrupt her. I know what she's like when she's got her head in an engine. I just … a man can miss his wife, you know."

Mal's own expression softened. "I know, Simon."

"Anyway, can I go back to our bunk now?" Freya asked. "I'd like to start on that meditating. Saffron really damaged my calm."

"Saffron?" Simon's ears perked up. "Really?"

"Yes." Freya slid from the counter. "I'll tell you all about it while I lean on you."

"What?"

"I think what my wife's trying to do, obviously too subtle for you, is to give me and Flynn time to talk," Mal interjected. "Alone."

"Oh. Yes. Of course." Simon put his shoulder under Freya's arm. "Oh, and by the way, since you haven't asked … Flynn's going to be okay."

"Doc, I figured if you hadn't said, it was pretty much a sure thing."

They exchanged a look.

"Stop it," Freya said soothingly. "You know you both like each other really."

"Frey, _ai ren_, that's a vicious rumour put about by people who want to clean out the septic vat for the foreseeable." Mal grinned.

"Oh, come on." Simon sighed. "Let's get you upstairs. Although it would probably be easier if you stayed in one of the passenger dorms."

"My bunk," Freya said firmly.

"Fine, fine. Just don't shout at me if I drop you."

"As if I would."

Mal waited until Freya and Simon had headed up the stairs before turning to the young man on the medbed.

"I thought we had this conversation," Flynn said, shifting uncomfortably.

"That was when you might've been dying. This one's more of a …"

"Telling off?"

"Something like that."

"Mal, I apologised. I can't do anything else." Flynn was getting increasingly agitated. "If I could turn back the clock and make it that I never took that _niou se_ job I would, but –"

"Not that kinda telling off."

"Oh." Flynn's eyebrows drew together. "What kind, then?"

Mal pulled the stool up, settling himself wearily on it. He was tired, not only physically – not having slept right since Freya went on board that damn liner – but also mentally, knowing he was paying the bill for all that adrenalin earlier. _Must be getting old_, he thought. _Time was I could fight all night, sleep for an hour then fight again._

_Not old, zhang fu._ He heard Freya's voice in his mind, somewhat amused from the tone. _Not yet._

"Um … Mal?"

Mal refocused. "Right." He took a breath, Freya still laughing somewhere between his ears. "This conversation is gonna be more along the lines of what you plan on doing with your life."

Flynn's face took on a sullen expression Mal recognised, mainly from Jayne. "It's my life, Mal. You don't have any say in what I do."

"Nope, that's true. It's not like I can make you become a Shepherd or anything, although I've known a few of them weren't that bad. But you have to make a decision. Stay on the course you're on, or maybe make a stand for something better."

"I don't want to talk about this." Flynn crossed his arms.

"Hey, if you want me to call Frey back down here, I will. But it won't be pretty. For you, that is." Mal glanced upwards towards the bunks. "Because the only reason I'm the one talking to you right now is because she ain't up to par."

Flynn closed his eyes briefly and exhaled heavily. "Mal, I am what I am. A mercenary. A gunhand. That's all."

"Nope. Maybe there was a time I'd've agreed with you, but not now, not seeing how River has changed Jayne. That's all I thought he was once, a man good with his fists and his guns, but not much else. It took a while, but I came to see the better person he is inside." Mal leaned forward. "But you tell anyone I said that, and I'll finish what that bomb started."

Flynn had to smile. "I won't. But –"

"But nothing. You can be what you want, Flynn. Nothing to stop you. And you know damn well your Ma would be behind whatever you decided."

"My Ma." The young man shook his head ruefully. "That's what all this is about, isn't it?"

"Well, maybe. But you wanted me to tell her something when you thought you were about to head off to that great whorehouse in the sky. In fact, if I recall, you wanted me to tell her you were sorry. Remember?"

"No." It was obvious he did, though, as his next words were, "I thought I was dying."

"So you weren't really sorry?"

"No. Yes." He pressed his lips tightly together. "Gorramit, don't go putting words into my mouth!"

"Someone has to. And if it ain't gonna be you …"

His head falling back, Flynn sighed mightily. "You want me to talk to her."

"That's about the shape of it."

"She won't want to talk to me."

"You asked her?"

"I know her."

"Not well enough." Mal looked at the boy in front of him, hiding inside the shell of a man. "She killed Harrington, do you know that?"

Flynn nodded. "I figured she had."

"Maybe you should ask her why." He slid from the stool, his booted feet slapping to the deck.

"That's it?" Flynn sounded surprised.

"For now. I reckon Simon's gonna tell me off any moment for keeping you from your rest."

"I was about to mention it, yes," the doctor said from the doorway. "And how did you know I was here?"

Mal turned to look at him, his lips curling. "That perfume you're wearing. It's pretty heavy stuff."

Simon gazed at him. "It's aftershave. Kaylee bought it for me."

"Nice of you to wear it considering she ain't here."

"I like it."

"Really?"

"Really." Simon smiled slightly. "And I wouldn't worry. From the incense Freya was lighting when I left her, you're not going to feel left out."

* * *

She was sitting on the floor, naked, her skin glowing in the soft light, eyes closed as she spoke the ancient words, meaning something to her if nobody else. In front of her was the small statue holding the incense stick, but his gaze was fixed firmly on the flame tattoo on her back, the riot of colours reaching out to him across the small bunk. One day he'd make her tell him about it, about the man who'd saved her life all those years ago, saved her sanity, but only when she was ready.

He waited until she'd finished her final mantra, opening her eyes and staring at the incense still drifting smoke. "Frey."

She smiled, more relaxed than she had been in days. "Hi." Holding out her hand she let him help her to her feet.

His eyes slipped to the large bruise on her thigh, angry with purple and black. "Rut it …" he murmured without thought.

"It's okay." She touched his cheek, her fingers brushing the slight stubble pressing through his skin. "It's going to go away."

"I know, but –"

"And Harrington isn't going to hurt anyone ever again."

He pulled her into his arms, feeling her naked body tight against him, his hands caressing her tattoo. "_Hwoon dahn_ – he deserved everything he got."

"Well, I don't think Saffron's going to be losing any sleep over his demise." She snuggled closer, ignoring the sharp imprint of his suspenders and buttons.

"I figure that's why you didn't tell me. Back on Boros, when we got wed." He had to smile, a slight chuckle running through his frame. "About Saffron being his daughter."

"I didn't want you to worry about it."

"Hmmn." His right hand wandered down her spine. "Still say I'm captain, and as such I've a notion I should be given all the facts and allowed to make up my own mind."

"And what would you have done?" She leaned back enough to look into his face. "Mal, Serenity Valley is over. Long done. And you've moved on."

"Finally."

"Yes, finally." She smiled even as her breath hitched. "And if you keep doing that, I'm never going to get to talk to Jez." _Like you want me to_, she thought.

"Do what?"

"Uh … that." Her eyes half-closed.

"Oh, this?"

"Y … yes."

"Frey, honey, the kids are all in with Jayne, River's taking a turn on the bridge, everyone else is otherwise occupied … I'm thinking I might take advantage of the situation."

"Do you?" She managed to get enough focus back to gaze into his blue eyes, their softness reaching out to envelop her.

"I am. And we ain't going anywhere for a few hours, not 'til Kaylee's sure the Empress is back up and running. I figure Jez can wait a while."

"Really."

"Yep. And as your captain, I'm giving you a direct order. 'Sides, the doc said I was to keep you awake …"

"Oh, well, in that case …" She allowed her eyelids to fall, moving her hips against his crotch and making him groan.


	30. Chapter 30

Eventually Freya managed to slip out of their bunk, by virtue of having worn Mal out and leaving him sleeping, a tiny snore filtering through his lips. She smiled softly, then fastened the remainder of the buttons on her shirt before climbing the ladder.

The metal of the deck felt cold beneath her bare feet, so she hurried through the Firefly, pausing only briefly to push at the Halo-inspired fog in her mind and make sure her quarry was where she thought she was, and unaccompanied. Then, nodding slightly, she stepped through the airlock and made her way up to Cherokee's kitchen.

It was almost dark, just one light burning over the stove in case anyone felt the need to raid the stack of goodies Ida always kept in one of the cupboards. This time, though, nobody was eating. The sole occupant of the room was sitting at the head of the table, her arms on the old wood, head down, staring into a glass.

Freya slid into the seat next to her, watching her for a moment.

Jez looked like a permanent feature, as if she had been carved out of the same wood as the table, and at the same time, like some bizarre figurehead. Her glass was currently empty, but the open bottle next to it suggested it wasn't often. Indeed, as Freya watched, her hand reached out and grabbed the neck, upending it, letting the clear liquid pour out. She didn't stop until it almost reached the brim.

"Looks like a good year," Freya commented, the perfume of slightly raw alcohol reaching her nose.

"I think it is. All of four months." Jez carefully put the bottle back down, somewhat too carefully if the truth be told. She'd been here a long time.

"Ah. You know, I think little Kaylee's plan is to spread the knowledge of how to build an inter-engine fermentation still throughout the known 'verse."

"Probably."

"And I think it's working."

"Marcel made a few adjustments."

"I'll let Kaylee know. She'll probably be interested."

"Yes."

They were silent for maybe a minute, then Freya spoke again. "You killed him." She wasn't talking about Marcel.

"Yes." Jez tossed back the moonshine, feeling it burn an already over-burdened throat.

"Do you wish you hadn't?"

"No."

"Then why are you torturing yourself?"

"Whatever gives you that idea? Maybe I just wanted a drink."

Freya looked the other woman up and down, noting the dark circles under her eyes, the not terribly clean shirt, her feet in disreputable socks, holes in the heels, and had to smile. "Jez, it might have escaped your notice, but I'm psychic. I know when someone's hurting, and you're in pain."

"Maybe I'm just trying to figure out why I didn't just shoot him in the first place. Soon as Laura and I got on board. Bang. All over."

"And what conclusion have you come to?" Freya reached out and took the bottle, possibly risking life and limb in doing so. She gently recorked it.

"I haven't."

"Hmmn."

"Hmmn ... what?"

"I was just thinking how like Mal you are."

Jez's eyes narrowed. "If you're about to make a play for me, I'm happily married. Well, married, anyway."

Freya smiled, wondering if Noah had been nagging her too. "No. You're not my type. You're missing something important."

"Like what?" Jez leered.

"Sobriety, for a start."

"This? This is normal. Just me. Having a drink."

"Having several drinks. Having half the bottle, in fact."

"So? You're not my mother."

"No, I'm not."

Something in Freya's tone made Jez look up. "You stay out of this, Frey. This is between me and my conscience."

"That's what this is all about, isn't it? Motherhood."

"No idea what you're talking about." Jez lifted the glass again, almost surprised to find it empty.

"I'm not stupid, Jez."

"Never said you were." She reached for the bottle but Freya moved it further away. "Frey ..."

"You've had enough."

"Nope. Never enough."

"Oh, I see. So this is going to be like when you thought you'd crippled Noah."

"I did!" Jez rubbed her belly, as if she'd received a blow to it. "I did," she repeated, much quieter.

"No, you didn't. We talked about that, remember?"

"Hell, I ain't likely to forget." She shuddered, memories of being made to be sensible still raw in her head.

"And now you need to talk about this. To me, or Noah, I don't really care. Even Mal, if you're feeling masochistic."

"Oddly enough, not that much."

"No, most people aren't." Jez's lips twitched, but that was about all, and Freya went on, "I don't doubt you saved my life. And Dr Barkin's, let alone Saffron's. Harrington wasn't going to keep anyone alive who could possibly testify to what he'd done."

"Probably not."

"But that's not everything, is it? There's more. About Harrington. About how Laura says, when she heard the kill shot and rushed in, his gun was the other side of the ship."

"You're asking if I killed an unarmed man."

"No. But I think you need to say it."

Jez stared at her friend, knowing she knew, knowing she was going to have to say the words out loud. Hell, might as well get them over with. "Yes. You're right. Harrington didn't have a gun. I can't even use that excuse. He was talking, and all I could hear was my father saying the same words, and I didn't have him in front of me. So I just pulled the trigger." She paused for a long moment, then went on, "I murdered my father. By proxy."

"Very perceptive."

"But knowing that, knowing why I did what I ... what I want to do ..." Her eyes screwed tight shut. "It doesn't make it right."

"No. But we all do things we regret, things we wish we'd never had to, things we're ashamed of. This is just another one."

"I'm not ashamed!" Jez's voice rang from the superstructure. "I'm not." She reached for the bottle again, but this time Freya put it on the floor. "I just want a drink."

"You've had enough."

"My decision."

"It won't help. And in the morning you'll have that damn mask back on, and nobody's going to see the hurt you carry inside."

"Get out of my head, Frey," Jez warned darkly.

"I'm not in there. I just understand."

"No you don't. How can you? Nobody took away your son!"

"No. But I buried a daughter."

There was a long, very silent moment, neither of the women even breathing.

"Gorramit," Jez muttered, her face turning red. "Frey, I ..."

"I nearly lost Mal because I didn't talk about it."

"I'm sorry."

"So am I." Freya took a deep, cleansing breath. "I was _fong luh_ over it – don't you be."

"Can if I want," Jez said, somewhat childishly. Then she shook her head. "How come you always know what to say?"

"Practice." Freya couldn't help chuckling. "You and Mal are so alike."

"If I had my gun I'd consider shooting you for insulting me like that." Except her shoulders had relaxed just a touch, and maybe there was the beginnings of a smile on her face.

It made Freya broach the other subject. "Jez, when are you going to see Flynn?"

Okay, maybe it was too soon.

"Is that it?" The other woman glared at her, sudden anger fuelled by booze. "All this concern over how I feel about shooting a man, and you just want me to go and poke a tiger?"

"Well, not that. But go and see your son, yes."

"And tell him what, exactly? Sorry, boy, but I'd love to kill the man who raised you." Jez laughed, mockingly. "I can see that going down a treat."

"Have you asked him?"

"No. And I don't intend to." Tears began to run down her cheeks, the emotional alcoholic switchback running its course. "What am I, Frey? What the hell am I?"

"A person. A woman with a son who needs her, who she needs, and who's about as pig-headed as they come."

"Nobody needs me."

"Jez." It was Noah, dressed in only a pair of pyjama bottoms, his hands resting in his lap, as always in the wheelchair.

"Shit." Jez wiped the tears from her face angrily.

"I need you," he said simply.

"How long have you been there?" she demanded to know.

"Long enough." He propelled himself forwards until his knees touched hers. "I know what you did. We all know. And we understand."

"Don't you damn well pity me!"

"Nope. Not doing that. Like Frey said, we've all got our ghosts in the closet. Hell, some of 'em I wouldn't want to be telling you even now. Things I'm so ashamed of ..." He shook his head. "Yeah, perhaps you should have shot him when he had the gun in his hand. But you saved us all, Jez. All of us."

Jez stared into his face, her eyes searching for something, anything that said he wasn't telling the truth. And all she could see was love. "Shit," she whispered again.

Freya got up quietly, bare feet only whispering on the decking as she left the kitchen. At the top of the stairs she paused. "'Nara."

A shadow resolved itself. "I was just going to talk to her myself," the ex-Companion said softly.

"Still can, if you want."

"No. I think you did a good job."

"'Nara, I live with Mal. If I didn't know how to handle difficult people once in a while, I'd be raiding Simon's stocks of drugs every day."

"I know I would." Inara smiled briefly, then her gaze went back to the small area of light framed by darkness, where Jez sat with her head in her husband's lap, his hands stroking her hair. "Is she going to be all right?"

"You're the counsellor – you tell me."

"I think she's going to have a hell of a hangover in the morning."

Freya smiled. "That she is."

"And as for the rest ... yes, I think so. This might even be a cathartic experience for her."

"I wouldn't be at all surprised." Freya stifled a yawn.

"And you should be in bed."

"You offering?"

Inara's jaw dropped a little, then she regained control. "One day I might actually take you up on that."

"Somehow I doubt it." Another yawn, this time sneaking up on her so fast she couldn't stop it. "Oh, sorry."

"Go to bed," Inara advised.

"That your prescription?"

"It is. Just like I'm going to." To make her point she started down towards the cargo bay. "Coming?"

"Mmn." As her friend walked in front of her, Freya studied her, the elegance, the poise, and smiled slightly. That was going to change soon. Very soon. But that was going to be Inara's secret to tell, not hers. When she finally found out, that is. And if River could be persuaded to keep her mouth shut.

* * *

Next morning, after a leisurely breakfast prepared by Ida in Cherokee's kitchen, Mal sat nursing a cup of coffee and talking to Jez and Noah.

"We need to at least pay you for the ammo you used."

Noah shook his head. "Nah, no need. Marcel'd been wanting to check out the guns for a while, so it just gave us the opportunity. 'Sides, he said the aft one's seized up now, so there's no need to replace the charges."

"Don't be telling Kaylee. Or Jayne. They'll be fighting over who gets to try and unseize it."

Noah grinned. "Hell, I'm just glad it didn't blow up on us. And Marcel's looking forward to taking it to pieces when he has nothing else to do."

"Then I insist we pay for –"

"No," Jez said firmly, interrupting him. "You saved our lives before, so we're just repaying the debt." She winced slightly as Mal twisted his mug on the old table. The smoother was finally beginning to work, but she still felt a little fragile.

He gazed at her, feeling only the smallest amount of sympathy for what he considered a self-inflicted injury. "Kaylee only fixed your engine."

"Then make it that she can do it again sometime. I'm sure we'll need it."

Mal had to smile. "You're really not going to let me repay you, are you?"

"Nope."

"You know how much that irks me."

A wide grin split her face. "Oh, yes."

"Sadist."

"Come on, Mal. It's what you love about me."

"Hey!" Noah put in. "No talking about love. At least, not while your husband is here."

"Fine." She glanced at him then back at Mal. "We'll talk about it later. When we're alone."

Noah groaned a little. "See how much she thinks of me?" A mischievous look flashed across his face. "Hey, you ever been to Covenant?"

"Out beyond Jiangyin?" When Noah nodded, Mal went on, "Nope. One of the few places I haven't set foot."

"There's a settlement called Amity there, and they practice a little tradition called wife-swapping. See, every six months they all get together and have a big feast, and everyone puts a numbered ball into one of two pots. One for the women, one for the men. And everyone gets to pick out a number from the opposite pot, and they live together for the next six months."

Jez was now leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed, her expression promising retribution if her husband didn't stop talking, but Noah ignored her.

"Really," Mal said, trying not to smile.

"Really," Noah agreed. "And did I ever tell you I was born there? 'Cause I figure I'm way overdue."

"You told me you were born on Calliope," Jez pointed out.

Noah laughed. "Yeah, but a man can dream, can't he?"

She hit him, not very hard, but enough so that he yelped and rubbed at his arm.

"Well, if you won't let me pay for the ammunition," Mal said, getting back to the matter in hand even as he enjoyed seeing two other people fighting for a change, "then at least come on over and see Flynn."

Jez shot him a glare. "No."

"Why not?"

"Because he doesn't want to see me."

Noah wheeled back from the table a little so he could turn to face her fully. "Since when did you do what other people wanted?"

"Since when do I have to explain everything to you?" she countered.

"Since you said 'I do'. Which, I have to admit, sometimes worries and confuses me."

"Because I said yes?"

"Because you turned up at all. Jez Youngblood, Independent. _Diyu_, but that's the most apt title I've ever heard."

"Jez Thacker, if you don't mind."

"Oh, I don't mind. But as the man who gave you that name, why won't you go see your son?"

Mal grinned. "I think you're outnumbered," he put in. "And as senior captain here –"

"Senior?"

"I get to say."

"Who died and made you God?"

Noah leaned forward. "Jez, stop being such a _baichi_ and go see Flynn."

She glared at him. "Bastard."

"Actually my parents were happily married. Until they had me."

"I'm not surprised." She ran her hands over her face. "Look. I want to see him, make sure he's okay, but ... we didn't exactly part on the best of terms last time."

"Try it again," Mal suggested. "You never know."

* * *

"He didn't."

"He did." Freya smiled at Flynn. "Naked as a jaybird."

"And that's her?"

"That's her."

"Has she had the baby yet? I have to say, I was surprised Simon didn't rush over there."

"Ah, there might be … extenuating circumstances." Freya smiled. "Like being more than a little concerned Saffron might take it into her head to sell him and River out to the Alliance."

"After you rescued her?"

"Saffron doesn't exactly have the same moral compass as the rest of us. What's good for Saffron is all that matters."

"But her husband's rich."

"I don't think she sees it that way. And yes, she had the baby. A few hours ago. A boy. From what I understand, Ida's learned some new curse words." Freya shook her head. "Saffron, a mother. Somehow, it undermines your belief in the basic goodness of the 'verse, doesn't it?"

"What's she going to call it?"

"Last I heard, she was threatening to name him 'Mal'."

Flynn laughed, then his face screwed up. "Don't," he said quickly. "It hurts." He had to wait a few moments for the pain to subside and he could breathe easier. "She must be happy."

Freya considered. "Happiness and Saffron. I honestly don't know if she ever is. She's probably at her happiest when she's fleecing some poor mark, but actually _being_ happy ... I don't know."

"But she's got a baby. A son."

Freya looked into his eyes, seeing the hopefulness in them. "Maybe. Maybe this will change her."

"I doubt it," Jez said from the doorway.

Freya looked up. "Hi."

"Frey."

From the look on her face Freya knew she hadn't exactly come willingly. "Mal?"

"And Noah. My own husband ganging up on me."

"I figure that's what they're put in this world to do. And you wouldn't listen to me." She stood up. "Come on. Better get this over with."

Flynn, watching the two women from his supine position, shook his head. "You make it sound like it's my funeral."

"It could have been!" Jez didn't mean to be so sharp. "Sorry. But I ... I only just ..."

"And I didn't help." Flynn sounded sheepish, and Jez stepped to the bed.

"You okay?"

"I've still got my leg. Thanks to Mal, according to Simon."

"Mmn. A one-legged mercenary. Probably not a good career move."

"Gunhand."

"Sorry."

"Murphy MacLean," Freya said thoughtfully as she stepped back to lean on the counter.

"Who?"

"He had one leg. And one arm. Come to think of it, he only had one eye and no nose." She paused. "We used to call him 'Lucky'."

Jez glared. "Go."

Freya grinned and sauntered out. "If you need me, I'll be just here."

Turning back to the medbed, Jez looked at her son. "I'm glad you're going to be okay."

"Yeah, me too."

"Flynn, I ..." Her voice failed her.

"Harrington's dead."

Her breath hitched in her chest. "Yes."

"You killed him."

"Yes."

"Because he was going to take Saffron's baby from her, like Grandfather did to you."

Jez swallowed. "Yes."

"He shouldn't have."

"No, but maybe I over-reacted to –"

"Not Harrington. Grandfather. What he did. I'm sorry."

Jez had to fumble for the stool to sit down before she fell down. "What?"

"I was stupid. I believed him when he said you didn't want me, that all you wanted was money to run away."

"That's what he told you."

"He said you couldn't wait to give me up."

"Flynn, that's not how it happened."

"I know." He looked down at his hands. "I ... after last time, when we ... I was so angry. I thought you were making excuses ..." He bit his lip. "So I wrote home. To him." He could still see the response in his mind's eye, those few lines scrawled so angrily across the expensive vellum that they'd torn through in a couple of places. "He never forgave me for leaving, I know that. It was probably the only reason he told me the truth. That he'd made you leave me behind." He swallowed hard. "I'm ... I'm sorry."

Jez reached out, took his hand, held it tightly. "Don't be. If I could change things, go back, make it right –"

"Can you?"

"No," she had to admit.

"Then we move on from here." He smiled slightly. "Mom."

She couldn't speak, couldn't even breathe for the sudden welling of happiness filling her, hearing that word from him for the very first time. Eventually she coughed. "Yes. We move on."

His fingers wrapped around hers. "You do realise it's only the drugs Simon has me on that's letting you hold my hand, don't you?"

"Oh, I know that."

"Otherwise I'd be too embarrassed."

"But that's what mom's do," she said quietly, leaning forward as if it was a secret. "At least, so I've been reliably informed."

He grinned suddenly, but it faded all too quickly. "Umm ... Mom …"

"What?"

He looked like a little boy. "I just ... how's Val?"

Jez's lips twitched. "She's fine. Not hurt at all."

"I don't suppose ... she wants to talk to me."

"I think she's still pretty mad."

"Not surprised. And I didn't mean to ... She's really nice."

Jez didn't push. Love wasn't something she felt qualified to comment on, at least for other people. Although ... "I can ask her to come down, if you like."

He jerked, but ignored the pain in his leg. "She's still here?" He couldn't have looked more surprised.

"Uh-huh. Mal insisted the girls stay with him, at least until they can decide what they're going to do."

"Oh." He stared into the infirmary ceiling. "I was sure she'd still be on board the liner."

"Mal didn't have to argue that hard. I think it scared them both more than they cared to admit."

Guilt suffused his features. "Sorry."

"Just don't do it again."

"'Kay."

She pushed his blond hair back from his forehead, something she'd wanted to do all his life. "So you want me to ask her?"

Flynn shrugged as best he could lying down. "If you see her."

"Okay."

"But only if … you know …"

"If I see her." God, he was so young sometimes. Although, thinking about it, Noah behaved … maybe all men were like it once in a while. Mal certainly was. There was a pause, and she tried hard not to ask, but the words fell from her lips anyway. "So are you coming with us? Ida wants to take you in hand."

"Tell me off, you mean."

"Probably."

"I'm sorry."

Jez felt her heart drop. "So you'll be going with Mal. That's ... I understand."

"No. I mean I'm sorry for everything I did. Everything I said." It was probably the painkillers, just like he said, but tears began to run down his cheeks into his hair. "For running away last time. And I want to come with you. If you'll have me."

She felt her own eyes moisten. "Got to have someone to look after you," she said quietly. "Until you're back on your feet again."

"Yeah." He sniffed and wiped at his cheeks. "Don't know why I'm crying."

"No," Jez said, doing the same. "Me neither."

Outside in the common area, Freya smiled, as did both the other psychics on board. Maybe now life could get back to something more approaching normal.

* * *

It was a good twenty hours later that Hank got a wave from the Empress.

"_Serenity, this is Captain Singh."_

"Captain." Hank was impressed. He usually only got to deal with people much lower in the pecking order. "What can we do for you?"

"_Your engineer is ready to come home."_

"My ... you mean Kaylee."

"_Yes. Ms Frye."_ Singh smiled through his beard_. "We will, of course, be frisking her before she leaves, but I wouldn't be surprised if she hasn't got a few trifles in her pockets."_

Hank grinned. "You up and running again?"

"_We'll get to Persephone," _Singh allowed. _"As soon as we're clear of The Halo I'll request a full working party to meet us there."_

"What about your passengers? Any of them wanting to get off?"

"_A few. I don't think this has done our reputation much good, but most of them seem content to stay on board. Of course, we will probably have to adjust our schedule somewhat. We do have something of a hole in our side."_

"Yeah, guess you do." Hank grinned. "Well, see you in the world, Captain Singh."

"_And you. And pass on my thanks once again to Captain Reynolds. I know we only survived because of his intervention."_

"Will do." Hank signed off, sitting staring at the blank screen for a few moments. This his lips twitched and he exhaled sharply through his nose. It was amazing just how many folks were still around in the 'verse just 'cause of Serenity's 'interventions'. Mal could quite possibly end up being the most popular browncoat in the Alliance. And wouldn't that just annoy him.

Now grinning even wider, Hank reached up and pulled the com down to him. "Mal, just got a wave from the Empress. Kaylee's ready to come home."

"_Better get River to –"_

A light flashed on the board in front of him, and a familiar tremble ran across the deck. Hank sighed. "She's already gone, Mal." River's distinct laughter filtered through his mind, a contact so rare in his experience that he almost jumped.

There was a pause and Hank could imagine the expression on his captain's face, probably accompanied by an eye roll.

"_Shiny," _Mal said finally. "_I'll get to the cargo bay. Welcome her home."_

* * *

The shuttle door opened, and Mal smiled. "Hey, there, _mei-mei_. Did you have a –"

Kaylee thumped him.

"Ow! What was that for?" he asked, rubbing the sore patch. Whatever he'd done, she meant it, and years of dealing with recalcitrant nuts and other machinery had made her deceptively strong.

"For not telling me Serenity'd been hit by an EMP!" She was obviously furious, not just from her resorting to physical violence, but also the high colour in her cheeks.

"Didn't anyone mention that little fact to you?" Mal tried for innocence, and failed.

"No, they gorram didn't!" She crossed her arms, trying hard not to whack him again.

Innocence having failed, Mal tried praise. "Well, whatever you and Hank did, it worked. She's still running."

"And I need to do a full sweep! Diagnostics, visual as well as integral scans, run a …" She glared at him. "Cap'n, you got any idea what might've gone wrong?"

"Um, no?" He put his hand on her arm, risking broken bones. "Kaylee, that's why I've got you. So I don't have to. And you're the best mechanic floatin'."

She wanted to stay mad, but his words sounded so sincere that her anger melted away. "I know that," she said. "But you still shoulda said."

"Next time we get hit, I will."

"Mmn." She looked around. "So where's Simon? And my children?"

"Bethie's got Hope and David Gabriel in with her. I think they're itching to see you, but she knows you'll want a little time with Simon first. Who's in the infirmary. He's changing Flynn's dressing."

"Oh. Good." She backed up a step. "I'll just go … see if he needs a hand." She turned and sauntered towards the stairs, but breaking into a gallop as the anticipation got too much for her, clattering down the steps.

Mal grinned.

"You might want to run," Freya commented from where she stood leaning on the railing of the opposite catwalk.

He looked across at her. "Run? Why?"

"Because nobody told her Simon got shot, either."

"Oh, _diyu_ …"

"Cap'n!" Kaylee's voice filled the Firefly. "Why's my husband limping?"

Mal stepped back into the shuttle's airlock. "River, fire her up!" he called, adding to his wife, "If anybody asks, tell 'em I've decided to run away and join the circus."

Freya laughed. "What, and miss all the fun?"


	31. Chapter 31

"We keep doing this, don't we?" Jez said, her hands thrust deeply into her pockets as she stood by the airlocks joining Cherokee and Serenity. "Saying goodbye."

"Way life goes," Mal said. "At least we're still around to say it."

"True." She smiled slightly. "Be a bit more difficult if we were standing here dead."

"Sure be messier."

"Think anyone'd clear it up?"

"Nope. Our mouldering corpses would probably stay until they stunk the place out."

"Thanks for that mental image."

"My pleasure." Mal smiled, his blue eyes warm. "You all gonna be okay?"

"If by 'all' you mean me and Flynn … I don't know. I hope so. We've made progress, that's what's important."

"I guess." His lips twitched. "So are you going to have any more kids?"

She raised her eyebrows at him. "Anyone ever tell you it isn't nice to pry?"

"Probably. I didn't take much notice, though. Only I'm figuring Flynn didn't turn out that badly. Must be his genes."

She blushed. Jez Thacker actually blushed. "I … suppose he didn't."

_Mal, stop teasing her._

He had to cough to hide the laugh as Freya spoke in his head, and Jez looked at him sharply. "Anyway," he went on quickly, "if you need any help any time, you let us know."

"Don't worry, we will. And the same for you."

"I'll take that as a kindness."

They both knew it could be months before the two ships were within spitting distance again, but it didn't matter. Friends were friends, no matter how often they could get together.

"And I'll let Frey know how things go with Flynn and me," Jez went on.

"Shiny."

"Where _is_ Frey, by the way?"

"Lessons. She wanted to get right back into the swing of things." Mal chuckled. "Must be the first time the kids've ever hurried. I think maybe River taking over made 'em more appreciative of my wife's talents."

"I had a governess," Jez admitted. "And I hated her with a will."

"I guess it took meeting me to mellow your nature."

She considered hitting him, but Ida's voice from inside the common area interrupted.

"Okay, take him through," the diminutive woman instructed.

Jayne and Hank managed to manoeuvre the stretcher out of the doorway into the cargo bay, Ida close behind.

"I _can_ walk," Flynn complained.

"Hey, don't sweat it," the ex-mercenary said. "We've had plenty of practice carrying Mal every time he gets shot." Jayne appeared to see his captain for the first time. "Oh, hey, Mal. Just talking about you."

"So I gather." Mal glared at him, then looked at the passenger. "You gonna be good?" he asked.

Flynn grinned. "About as much as you."

"I'll be on the lookout for your wanted poster then."

"I think I'll be in good company."

Hank shifted his handholds slightly. "Look, I know Jayne's bulging with muscles, and I'm not bad, but Flynn here ain't a lightweight. Can we get on afore I drop him?"

Mal's cobalt glare turned on the pilot, but his lips were twitching. "Fine. Take him on through. I'm sure he's more'n willing to be in better company than you two."

"You wound me," Hank said, starting forwards again.

"Don't tempt me."

Simon stepped into the cargo bay, managing to contain the wince as he put his bad leg down. Kaylee had been somewhat enthusiastic in her welcoming, and he wondered if maybe he should be using that stick again. "Do you have everything you need?" he asked Ida as the other pair carried Flynn into Cherokee.

"More than enough. And you did such a good job all I'm going to have to do is keep it clean."

"Yes, well, if there's any sign of infection just wave."

"Will do." She reached up and planted a kiss on his cheek before following her patient.

"I'll tell Kaylee on you," Mal threatened.

The young doctor didn't even blink. "And I'll remember that the next time I'm having to sew you up."

"I'd be happier if you'd remember to tell your wife to stop hitting me every chance she gets." Mal rubbed the spot on his belly where her elbow had connected the last time. "'Cause it seems to me it wasn't my fault you got shot."

Simon's lips twitched. "You know, I think I'll leave that up to you. After all, you are captain." He turned on his heel and limped back to his domain.

"You have a wonderfully loyal crew," Jez commented dryly, her face deadpan.

"Want to swap?"

"No."

"You know, I'm surprised you ain't got more'n one passenger," Mal said.

"You mean Flynn? He's not a passenger. He's family."

"I was thinking more of Val."

Jez shrugged. "They talked. Much more than that, I don't know. Flynn hasn't said."

"What, not told his mother about the private conversation he had with his girlfriend?"

"I know you're trying to wind me up, and it won't work." She glared at him. "And if Val is his girlfriend, it's news to me."

Mal didn't enlighten her as to the conversation he'd had with Freya the night before. It wasn't that she'd peeked, but she had happened to find herself outside the infirmary doing a bit of tidying up just at the time Valentia Reilly had given in to her desires and walked the few yards to see Flynn Youngblood.

Freya had said the kissing noises coming through the doorway after a while were quite disturbing.

"Give it time, Jez," Mal advised. "Give it time." He smiled. "And from the way you're dillydallying, I can't help feeling you don't want to be parted from my company either."

"I don't think I've ever dillied in my life. Let alone dallied."

"Nope?"

"No. And I'm just waiting for Hank and Jayne to get back, Captain Reynolds, then you won't see my burn for dust."

"Right." He grinned. "I just thought it was my magnetic personality."

"In your dreams."

"Saffron's, apparently. At least according to Frey."

"Really?"

"She says the erstwhile Mrs Reynolds hates me so much she loves me."

Jez scoffed.

Saffron, in fact, couldn't wait to go back to the liner. "Durren's sending a personal ship for me," she explained to Mal, who for some reason even he couldn't fathom had found himself in Cherokee's small infirmary. "It's going to meet us on Persephone."

"You planning on staying put after you get back to Bellerophon?"

"Why, would you miss me?" she tried, batting her eyelashes at him.

"Saffron, sweetheart, I never miss."

Her eyes narrowed as she contemplated the double meaning behind the words, then sighed heavily. "I don't know," she admitted. "Durren loves me, I have everything I want, but sometimes …"

"Heinrich," Mal supplied.

She sighed. "You know, I never can remember his name."

"Saffron ... Yolanda ... or whatever the hell you're calling yourself right now ... that ain't something you should be proud to admit." Mal looked down into the small carrycot at her side, at the baby lying peacefully asleep. "And you're a mother, now. Unless you're planning on carryin' a papoose with you every time you go out trying to kill someone."

"I don't kill people."

"Not many, anyway." He smiled slightly. "I seem to recall us having this very same conversation once before, and it didn't end up too well."

"You still owe me for my share of the Lassiter," she said quickly.

"Nope. 'Less you want to pay me my share of that statue you almost made me the fall guy for."

She glared at him, then tossed her head, her red hair sweeping out to frame her features. "Fine. Be like that."

"Oh, don't worry, honey. I will."

A small baby's wail announced that someone was hungry, and Saffron reached into the cot, lifting her son to rest against her chest. She began to unbutton her dress.

Mal hurried out. He'd seen enough women putting babies to their breasts to last him a lifetime, but the catch in his throat wasn't because of that. It was seeing the look of … well, if he didn't know better, he'd have to call it love on her face. He strode back towards his own ship and family, shaking his head. Maybe this was actually going to change her.

Not that he was going to get the chance to find out. Within the hour she and Barkin had been whisked back to the Empress, preparing to finally get under way.

"We're back," Hank announced, carrying the now dismantled stretcher. "Ida tried to entice us to stay with promises of good food and better company, but my masochistic side kicked in."

Jayne chuckled, sounding like gravel down a washboard. "Nah. You just know what Zoe'd do if she found out you'd been flirting with someone else."

"She was flirting with me!" Hank insisted, then spoiled it by grinning. "But you're right. And I'd sort've like to see Ben grow up."

"Then you'd better get up to the bridge," Mal said. "Get us ready to separate."

"I wouldn't worry," the pilot said. "I'm sure River's there already."

"Maybe I should be paying her your share of the next lot of cashey-money then …"

"Getting to the bridge in a supervisory context, on the double. Sir!" He ripped off a smart salute, only slightly hampered by trying to do it with the stretcher still in his hand, having to hand it to Jayne, and trying again. He ran up the stairs two at a time, his untidy brown hair looking worse than ever.

"You know," Mal mused to Jez, "maybe I was right. Maybe there _will_ be another passenger on board Cherokee. Me."

Jez's laugh rolled through the Firefly.

* * *

As Cherokee powered up and final goodbyes were said over the comm. system, Mal stared out at the stars.

"There she goes," Hank said, his eyes roaming across the board as always, checking for potential problems.

"Mmn."

The Pelican class ship had disengaged, and as they watched her engine lit with an inward fire, and in a moment she had vanished.

"Holding your breath?" Freya said from behind her husband, her arms snaking around his waist to rest, palms flat, on his chest.

"Yes."

"It won't happen again."

"You can see that?" Road Runner, her innards spilled into the dark …

"Nope. But I believe."

"Enough for both of us?"

Her fingers ghosted over the gold cross hiding under his shirt. "Yes."

"Shiny."

She shifted around so she could stand next to him, pressed against his side. "You think Val and Flynn are going to keep in touch?"

"I think maybe Cherokee's gonna find some excuse to visit Sihnon around about the time the Empress docks," Mal said astutely. "Although that's dependent on whether they want to finish the cruise."

"Ah, well, actually …" Freya's voice faded.

He looked down into her brown eyes. "There something you ain't telling me?"

"Lots. But in this case, Val and Phoebe want to rejoin the Empress at Persephone."

"Do they now. And what if I say no?"

"Are you intending to lock them in their rooms?" she countered.

"Nope. I don't think I could take the aggravation."

"So you're okay with this?"

"Okay, no. But I kinda understand. And lightning doesn't strike in the same place twice."

River, sitting in the co-pilot's seat, stirred slightly. "Actually –"

"Albatross."

She subsided, and Hank chuckled.

"So I thought I'd contact Dillon, see if those other bodyguards are still available," Freya went on.

"You intending on checking them out personally?"

"You'd better believe it," she said fervently.

"Then I conjure I'll be along with you. For moral support." Mal pulled her a little closer. "Still be a while before they see each other again."

"They do say abstinence makes the heart grow fonder."

"I thought that was absence?"

"Not in my world."

Mal smiled. "I always figured it just made a man all knotted up inside."

"That too."

"She's pretty enamoured, ain't she?"

"She thinks he's a hero."

"No such thing."

"Then hopefully the closest they're likely to get."

"And after you were so angry when you found the pair of them at Ling Miao."

"Yes, well … maybe he did redeem himself."

He had to nod. "I figure maybe he did."

Hank coughed. "Um, as fun as this is watching you two smooching, where exactly would you like me to drive? I mean, it's a big 'verse out there, and –" His head snapped around to River. "And you can stop that right now."

Her hand, which had been reaching for the controls, slid back into her lap. "Oops," she said, smiling at him.

"Gorramit, you're always trying to take my job."

"I like flying."

"Me too. It's what I get paid for."

"Zoe thinks it's because you let her –"

"_Xiao nu_." Mal's voice cut through the banter. "I think that's enough, don't you?" When she turned her dazzling grin on him, he chuckled. "More than enough." Looking back at Hank, he went on, "Persephone first. Got me a date with a rodent. Then Lazarus to get Inara back to the lovin' arms of Sam. If he hasn't found someone else in the meantime." Then he yelped as Freya pinched him.

* * *

Eavesdown hadn't changed, and Mal wondered silently why he thought it would. The containers, the shacks, the people … the faces might move on, but humanity stayed the same.

"Penny for them," Freya said quietly, her arm around his waist as they walked through the crowds.

"Not worth it," he responded, smiling slightly. "'Sides, when did you ever ask permission?"

"Occasionally."

"Not that often."

"Once in a while."

"Anyway, my thoughts aren't worth a skinned –" He had to stop on account of her fingers on his lips. "This an example of you not peeking?" he mumbled.

"I know what you were going to say." She dropped her hand.

"Frey, the kids ain't around."

"Just because they've gone with Kaylee to get some new clothes for them and David Gabriel, doesn't mean …" She stopped. "Well, yes it does, but they're hearing far too many curse words anyway."

"Tell that to Jayne."

"You know, that's not so true any more. Haven't you noticed? Now Caleb's starting to talk, Jayne's been a lot more careful with what he says."

"I just thought he'd run out of new variations."

"Jayne? Has hell frozen over?"

They laughed together, their path taking them past the usual fast food stands.

"You know, that baby's gonna have the most extensive wardrobe of us all," Mal commented, going back to the matter in hand while watching a man juggle with swords, and wondering idly what would happen if one of the people clustered around him accidently nudged him.

"I see. And you didn't buy him a –"

"Hey, that's not for public broadcast."

She smiled. "You're just a big softie." Something large flew overhead, something familiar. "The Empress must be in orbit," she added, looking up as the liner's shuttle descended towards the more salubrious end of the docks.

Mal chuckled. "What's the betting Durren Haymer's gonna be waiting for it in person?"

"Not taking that bet." She laughed out loud, making a group of young women in all encompassing black outfits stare at her curiously. "Poor Saffron. He's not going to let her out of his sight."

"I feel more sorry for the kid. By the time he's five he's going to know more than enough about being a scam artist."

"You think?" Freya asked thoughtfully. "I wonder."

"Don't," he advised. "She's not worth it."

"Okay." She grinned. "You do realise Durren is going to owe _you_ this time, don't you?" she said, side-stepping a small child in an oversized shirt, a large earthenware bottle balanced skilfully on her head.

"Hell, may need to call him on it one day."

"Not yet, I hope."

"Try not to, _ai ren_."

They strolled on for maybe another hundred yards, then Freya spoke again. "Are you going to murder Badger?"

"Thinking on it. Why, you wanna watch?"

"Only, without his ore, we'd never have stopped the Laus."

"We'd have found a way."

"Mal …"

He shrugged. "Okay. No murder. Least, not today. But I ain't gonna thank him either."

"Oh no. Not that far."

"And he's gonna pay the rest of the cash for that little job we did for him, too."

"You think?"

"Or I might just look into how we ended up being a getaway vehicle."

She grinned. "You really are a bastard, aren't you?"

"Glad you noticed."

"Good job I love you."

"For me too, Frey. Me too."

They walked in silence for a moment, then Mal sighed.

"What?" Frey asked.

"Not sure. Just feeling ... hungry."

"Hungry? You ate not more than an hour ago."

"Not that kinda hungry. More for something sweet. And cold."

Freya's lips twitched. "You mean like ice cream?"

"Maybe . Might be just that."

Jesse had told how they'd had ice cream on Beaumonde, when they said goodbye. "I missed out, didn't I?"

"Well, we did buy extra, but someone got into it one night."

"Someone?"

"I'm thinking it was Jayne."

"Not you."

"Nope. Not 'less I was sleepwalking."

"I thought that was me."

He smiled and hugged her a little closer. "So how about it? After we meet with the others and sort out Badger, how about we go get ice cream?"

"Mmn, sounds nice." She hummed in satisfaction.

"You, me, and a ton of choc chips."

"Okay. But I think we'll have to take some back."

"I was thinking of doing just that. Maybe some strawberry too."

"You thinking it might make Kaylee forgive you?"

Mal was still recovering from various bruises. "I surely hope so."

"Simon got shot," Freya pointed out.

"Not my fault."

"Not according to Kaylee."

He sighed. "I know."

"But I think maybe strawberry ice cream might go a long way towards mending fences."

"Glad you agree." He reached down and kissed her lightly on the lips. "But after dealing with Badger."

"Oh, yes."

They strolled on, content to be in each other's company, passing by the rest of Persephone as if it didn't even exist.

* * *

Half the way to hell and gone, so far from Persephone that it wasn't worth counting the miles, a young man held a girl in his arms, trying to still her crying.

"Ssh, Naomi," he whispered, rocking gently. "Ssh. It will be okay."

"No … no … it … won't." Her words came out on sobs. "Hurts, Adam. Hurts."

"I know. I know." He looked around, not using his eyes. Nobody was watching, over and above the usual surveillance sticks. Turning in on himself, he felt for that nugget of life, the glow that kept him going when everything else tried to push him face down into the mud. Caressing it, making it flare just a little, he took the resulting flame and coated Naomi's mind in it, bathing the wounds – both mental and physical – in its healing balm.

It was only a moment, then Naomi took a shuddering breath, the lines smoothing on her eight year old face, the tears stopping. "Adam …"

"Ssh," he said again. "Don't tell anyone."

"I … I won't." She relaxed against him, a sweet smile gracing her lips for the first time in hours. In less than a minute she had fallen asleep.

Adam picked her up and carried her to the bed, her weight hardly registering on his muscles, and he made a mental note to encourage her to eat more. It wouldn't do for her to be so thin, not when rescue might be just around the corner.

Laying down on the bed, he let her use him as a mattress, her little arms either side of him, her face pressed firmly into his neck.

He tiptoed through her dreams for a moment, before withdrawing and leaving her to memories of fluffy white clouds and snowdrops. Going the other way, he tested the walls around him, seeing if there was yet a chink that he could see through, out into the 'verse, trying to contact _her_. He sighed. Nothing.

He'd never managed it yet. The drugs they used kept his abilities from their full potential, he knew that, and the security threads running all through the walls and floors were more than efficient. Most of the time he felt dumb and blind, only in the fleeting touches with the children's minds getting any kind of relief.

One day. One day. It was his mantra, the way he could keep going, keep protecting the children as much as he could without arousing too much suspicion. If they knew, if they even suspected he'd been able to hack the records that one time, he knew he wouldn't survive the hour. If they guessed he'd seen her face, her name, knew he was more than just a number …

Naomi shifted on him, one hand coming up to push a thumb into her mouth. He knew he should stop her, pull it gently away, admonish her for making her teeth crooked, but somehow he couldn't. That little bit of comfort was essential.

His own eyes were closing, he knew, and he'd soon be joining her in sleep. Maybe his dreams would be of clouds and flowers too, but he knew better – too many things out there in the dark to populate his nightmares. Still, as he felt himself slipping, he held tightly to the truth of the matter. And one day he, Adam Rostov, would meet his mother.

* * *

**A.N.:** Okay, that's the end of this little tale, but there's more to come in the Mal/Freya 'verse. You're almost caught up with my posts elsewhere, so the stories/chapters are going to be slower, but as you can see from the last section, there's angst to come. And fun. Good times and bad. Just like real life. Jane


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